Off hours
by galaxyostars
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MASS EFFECT ANDROMEDA: Being Pathfinder is a lot of work - the reality is, every relationship is impacted by this, both positively and negatively. With Cora? Mm. They were responsible adults. [Series of one-shots, cross-posted with Archive of our Own. This version is censored for the more NSFW content.]
1. A tarnished name

He'd been dragged here in the middle of the night for an interrogation. An interrogation. _Him_. His bunk had been tossed, his locker's contents strewn across the hallway, his comrades searching for _something, anything_ , with no luck. Now, Scott Ryder stood here in front of his commanding officer, the artificial night of the ship guarding the Mass Relay having wrecked his senses – it was a tactic to get him when he was weak, he knew that, and he refused to let his tiredness show an inch.

The thing was, though, he had absolutely no idea what any of them were talking about. They could tire him out all they wanted, but he couldn't provide information he simply wasn't aware of.

"Do you or do you not harbour any kind of Artificial Intelligence aboard this ship?" His CO repeated, Scott standing at attention looking directly into the mans eyes.

" _No_." He snapped again, hands shaking in both anger and exhaustion from the repeated questioning. It was 0200 hours, they'd been at this for forty five minutes now with no change, no information as to why he was here. "And I have a right to know _why_ I'm being interrogated like this!"

Finally, after regarding him once more, his CO rested his hands on the desk. "Your father has been charged with the creation of an AI and dishonorably discharged from Alliance service. It is my job to determine if you assisted him, so now is the time to confess to me, son. Do you have on your person research of or an active Artificial Intelligence?"

Had Scott not been standing tall and trying to look as strong as he could, he might have just fallen over. Alec Ryder, the N7, one of the Alliance's best soldiers that had settled nicely on the Citadel, had been _discharged from the Alliance_.

It was impossible.

And discharged over an _AI_?

His father was a brilliant man - Scott knew that. He may not have known him on a personal level overly well, but throwing himself into the territory of AIs? Alec knew it was illegal, and as brilliant as he may be, Scott had never considered the man to be insane. Had this been why his mother was short with him during their last call together? Had Ellen known and just not said anything?

What about Sara? Did she know about this? Or was her science team doing the exact same thing to her at this very moment?

Voice shaking, Scott addressed his CO after a few moments of silence. "I do not know or, have research of, or _harbour_ an active AI."

"Are you _sure-_ "

"Yes I'm damn well sure!" Scott snapped. "This is _insane_! All of you know that I barely speak two words to my father and you think that I'm in cahoots with him? The Alliance, this Mass Relay – this is my _life_! Why would I jeopardize that for an _AI?_ "

Scott had thought that he was close to his squad, that they trusted him with their lives, and that he could trust them with his. But being treated like a common criminal?

When his CO finally allowed him to leave, Scott had been required to return to his locker and pack up what his squad had tossed around, put it back in its place – his bunk, too. This in itself was a punishment, just for being _related_ to Alec Ryder. Tagoman had tried to lend a hand, being the only member of the squad that had bothered to come and check up on him, but Scott pushed him away. The following two days were riddled with uncertain glances in his direction, his captain watching over him as he cleaned his sniper rifle. Because Alec Ryder was a traitor, and the Ryder clan were suddenly geth sympathizers.

On the third day, Scott shoved his resignation into his captain's chest, packed his bags, and got onto the next ship to the Citadel. Not a single person on his team tried to stop him.


	2. She was recruited

His father spoke about the Andromeda Initiative not as a new adventure - not yet, anyway - but as a way to save SAM - as if SAM needed saving. It would take months before he'd finally start addressing the Initiative as everybody had expected him to. With their mother's health declining, his father threw himself into working on SAM, creating "pathfinding guidelines", preparing for what was to come.

Now, they were another six months out from setting off into what Alec Ryder loved to refer to as the "great unknown". And Scott was terrified.

He didn't admit this to his father. And he'd doubt he'd admit it to his sister if she'd decide to show up to the party.

And then he met his father's second in command. Cora Harper, ex-Alliance soldier. She'd quit for reasons he wasn't currently aware of, nor was he really willing to ask at present, given that his own parting with the Alliance was still somewhat of a sore spot, but he didn't stop from getting to know her on a professional level. Or, at least, getting to know her when Alec wasn't whisking her away off on some random training tangent.

But, as they settled in for a long night of reviewing protocols and weaponry they'd decided to bring (and the Initiative had packed _a lot_ ), he'd finally built up the courage to ask her about before. "How'd he find you?"

Cora gave him a sideways glance. "He was in my area," She shrugged. "Was looking for me specifically."

"He knew about you?"

She gave a small grin, leaning her head back as she thought about what had transpired. "The Alliance doesn't have many biotic soldiers with my capabilities. He told me he'd be forced to contact some other biotic named Alenko that was posted out in the Terminus systems - practically begged me not to force him to do that."

That was a funny thought, his father begging someone for something, and he chalked it down to colourful language on her part.

"And you just agreed?" Scott pushed - feeling kind of rude as he did so, but he was curious.

"I'd agreed long before he starting talking about finding this other guy - I wasn't overly happy with how my career was going in the Alliance. Before, I was trapped in the path they wanted for me. Now I'm second in command to the human pathfinder, about to leave my home galaxy. And it's _my_ decision this time," She pointed out. "Last time a choice like this was made for me whether I wanted it or not, and I kept my mouth shut because I was given an incredible opportunity. But now I have the chance to explore what no other has, to be part of something bigger."

"So that's why you joined. To be part of something bigger."

It seemed to be a recurring theme among all the Andromeda recruits, minus a few of the settling colonists they'd struggled to pick up along the way.

"Yes, and no," Cora shook her head. "But I really want to get through these reports, so rain check on this conversation?"

"Sure," Scott smiled. "Rain check."


	3. Crush

"Have you met Lieutenant Harper yet?'

Scott looked up from the datapad, glancing at his sister only briefly before returning to running numbers of weapons shipments. "I've been working with her for a couple of weeks, now. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason, other then the fact that _she's stunning_ ," Sara emphasized, taking a seat on the desk, looking over her shoulder at him.

Though Scott had essentially dropped everything and headed to the Citadel in less then a week after his squad had all but abandoned faith in him, Sara had taken more time – and he was honestly surprised she'd shown up at all. Out of the two of them, Sara had done her best to keep her relationship with their father patched and positive, deciding to instead communicate long-distance and keeping in regular contact with Scott and their mother. She'd taken considerably longer to decide to work with him on the Initiative.

He'd been with her to introduce SAM, and that in itself had . . . mixed results. Sara had been both fascinated, and angry with Alec, and after a few days of having shut herself away to consider her feelings, she reemerged more ready then Scott ever was to throw herself head first into the Initiative.

She'd apparently only just met Cora Harper.

Scott brushed her comment off. "I hadn't noticed."

That was a lie. He had noticed. But he'd spent the last three years being the most respectful reconnaissance specialist he could be and he wasn't about to change that because his father had recruited an attractive officer with an impressive work ethic.

"Oh my God, you've got a crush on her."

Scott's blue eyes pierced up at his twin, putting the datapad down as he frowned at her, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. "You're talking about dad's second in command."

It was a "neither confirm nor deny" sort of answer, and even though he and his sister were practically joined at the hip, some things he preferred to keep to himself. Especially now that the twins were working together, with their parents, and with one Cora Harper.

" _So_? We're not in the Alliance – fraternization isn't prohibited here."

"Sara-"

"Alright, fine," She threw her hands up, hopping off the desk, beginning her retreat. "I won't tell dad."

He groaned. "That's a low blow."

Sara simply laughed, turning away from him completely as she left the small office.


	4. To Ellen Ryder

They were only four months out from leaving before Alec called them both in to say goodbye to Ellen Ryder. And every second of those last few moments were . . . he couldn't describe them.

Ellen didn't want them there for her last moments, Alec had guided them both away. Sara remained strong and steadfast, having accepted the reality they were facing, and though she didn't quite show it, he knew she was hurting.

Scott, however, broke into pieces when his father wrapped his arms around him, as if Scott wasn't the adult he'd been trained to be. His mother's death had broken the dam of stress that had just been building since he resigned from the Alliance. This seemed to be something the N7 operative was suddenly well aware of.

When the door to his quarters slid shut behind him, he was sliding down the bulkhead next to it, wiping tears from his eyes, and then covering those eyes from no one in particular as he shed more. He felt cold. And despite having literally just left his father and sister, who were no doubt feeling just as he was, he felt alone. As if someone had ripped his heart from his chest and tried shoving it back in.

The first step to remaining calm was breathing. For a long while, as he sat here on the ground, curled up tight, it felt like he couldn't breathe.

He was still seated there when his door chimed. Scott sighed, closing his eyes briefly before hauling himself up, suddenly weighing twice what he use to. Whoever was at the door could wait while he poured himself a drink, letting his cupboards slam closed as he fished out a glass and a bottle.

The door chimed again when he was halfway through the contents of the glass. "It's open," He muttered, loud enough for the VI to hear him and allow the door to slide open again. He didn't turn to see who it was – quite frankly, he couldn't care enough to move.

Cora appeared in his view, settling on the other side of the kitchen counter and leaning onto the benchtop, hands clasped together. She didn't speak, didn't try to touch or hold him – hell, she wasn't even looking up at him. She was just . . . there.

After a few moments, he couldn't stand the silence. "She didn't want us there for her last night."

She glanced up at him, brown eyes soft, but still she didn't speak.

Scott sniffed, taking another swig from his glass. "We thought she'd . . . we thought she'd make it, y'know? That'd she'd make it to cryo stage, she'd wake up in Andromeda, that she'd . . ." He huffed.

"That she'd see new stars," Cora finished.

His breath was shaky. His hands reached for the bottle again, still shaky, but he failed to pour. Cora took both his hands to steady them, Scott's eyes closing as she pulled away the bottle.

"I just . . . I need time."

"I get it," She said quietly, filling up his glass for him. Once it was filled, she reached over the bench to grab at a second glass on the sink, glancing over the label. "You drink elasa?"

"Seemed appropriate."

Core gave a quiet huff of agreement, her glass filled with the asari liquor. She held it up, motioning for Scott to do the same. "To Ellen Ryder. She was a hell of a woman."

"A helluva mother, too," Scott said, clinking their glasses. He took a full swig, downing the glass in one go, ignoring Cora's far more moderate intake.

It was just silence for a few more moments, Scott refilling his drink, Cora taking mild sips from her single glass.

Finally, when the bottle was empty, she took his glass from him. "Take the week, Scott. Don't worry about the inventory – I'll handle it. You and your family need to mourn."

"No offense to dad and Sara, but . . ." Scott shrugged. "Mom was the glue that held us together. I don't know how this is going to work from here on out."


	5. Group control

"I believe it would be beneficial if our colonies each had a representative pathfinder', if you will."

On a good day, he might have simply looked at Tann and turned on his foot to walk out. But he was stuck here, Cora by his side, listening to the Nexus council. Also stuck here was Lumont Hayjer with his second, a rather head-strong female Scott had yet to learn the name of; Sarissa Theris, whom had just flicked at Vederia Damali's hands to stop the SIC from fidgeting so much; and Avitus Rix – the only member of the pathfinders whom had yet to take on a second, and seemed to have absolutely no desire to do so. Which, under normal circumstances, Scott would be fine with, but now that they were gearing up to hunt for the quarian ark, he was less then pleased with Rix's stubborn nature and what Scott liked to call a 'complete disregard for the pathfinder protocol' when he was in a bad mood.

There had still been no word from the quarian pathfinder, or any quarian in general, which was concerning, and the council had no intention to pick up the pace, preferring to adhere to the quarian's request (or, rather, _demand_ ) that they stay away. It was actually one of the few things the entire Nexus council agreed on. And it happened to be the most infuriating decision they've ever made.

Now, they were talking about 'pathfinder representation', now that the kett were no longer a priority. Were there still raids? Yes. But at a decreased rate which pleased the APEX team.

"Each of the colonies already _have_ ambassadors and representation," Sarissa spoke up. "Are you saying that that isn't enough?"

"The chances that it'll improve morale are statistically low, sir," Hayjer agreed. "This is a waste of our resources and time."

It was nice to finally have a group of varying power to rival Tann's bad of uncooperative misfits.

"Oh . . . you seem to be under the impression that I'm giving you a choice in the matter," Tann leaned forward, resting his hands on the round table. "By tomorrow, each pathfinder will have chosen a colony – I'll allow you to work it out amongst yourselves. This colony will be under your protection and will take priority over all operations."

"That makes no sense," Vederia muttered.

"I agree," Cora said. "Nowhere in the pathfinder protocols does it state that a pathfinder must remain latched to the colony. If we start prioritizing colonies over one another, or over defenses, exploration, and negotiation with native cultures, we're never going to get a proper foothold out here."

Hayjer nodded. "We're supposed to form _new_ colonies."

"Then I'll have the council prepare a new amendment," Tann droned. "I rather I wouldn't. I should not have to force you to pick a colony and stay true to it, though I will if you'd prefer."

Scott shook his head, glancing at the turian pathfinder whom had stayed quiet. Out of the four pathfinders, Avitus and Scott were the most well-versed by virtue of being personally close to two of the book's original authors. The turian may not want to currently abide by them at present, but he wasn't afraid of being hypocritical when he required. Sarissa, too, would back Scott up simply because she thought Tann was an asshole even more then the rest of them, but because of what had happened to Ishara, she'd been forced to stay on his good side. Any chance to lash out at him, she'd take in a heart beat.

And Hayjer was already voicing his opinion, and he was against wasting their resources to do Tann's job.

"Alright," Scott said, breaking the silence when they'd all looked towards him. "We'll pick colonies to represent, prioritize over our day to day operations. But, as of this point forward, the Nexus council no longer has control of the pathfinding unit."

Tann blinked, the salarian's eyes widening with shock before he narrowed them at this sudden defiance. "I beg your pardon?"

"We'll watch over each colony individually, and in return, the Nexus council will relinquish control of and sponsor pathfinding operations," Scott explained, crossing his arms.

"You'd become a rogue organization? Over something as trivial as this?"

"We wouldn't be _rogue,_ we'd be self-managed. I don't think you remember just how much each pathfinder did for their arks before Nexus Control took over."

"Because that was your job!" Tann exclaimed. "We are simply asking you to prioritize and represent each of the colonies you've established!"

"Well, actually, they're colonies _Ryder_ established," Hayjer's second pointed out.

"And they're colonies that each have their own leadership and representation without the pathfinders, and all of which _should_ be under Nexus security's protection. Or APEX, really." Scott added, ignoring the jealous jab at him.

With seven members of the pathfinding teams now ganging up on him, Tann looked like he was fuming in his boots, eyes flickering between all of them. "And this is how you all feel?" He was met by a chorus of head nodding and 'yep' and 'yeah's, his shoulders sinking even further then what his anatomy already allowed. "Alright – if this is what you all agree on, I supposed the council will make do without pathfinder representation for each of the established colonies."


	6. Missing Armour

"Scott, I'm missing a thigh plate."

"What?"

"My right thigh plate – it's not in your quarters."

"Where'd you last see it?"

Cora rolled her eyes as she leaned against the bathroom door, remembering their less then graceful boarding of the Tempest last night. "You took it off me."

". . . it might be in the cargo hold."

She groaned, pushing off from the wall and exiting the bathroom. 'Might be in the cargo hold' – yeah well, if he hadn't just stripped it off in the heat of the moment, maybe she wouldn't have to go face Vetra and Liam Kosta looking for the damn thing and having to explain how exactly she lost it.

And she lost it in a heated rush to both get aboard and get into Scott's quarters. It had been fun at the time, but now it was just a damn chore trying to locate all the pieces. Next time, _he_ could go on a witch hunt looking for all the pieces of _his_ armour.

Cora maneuvered around crates, poked her head under the Nomad, searched up and down the damn cargo hold to no avail.

"Ahem."

She froze in her steps, eyes clenching shut just for one moment as the chances of her thigh piece remaining undiscovered by the rest of the crew dwindled to zero.

With a quiet sigh, she turned, her shoulders slightly hunched, to see Gil leaning against the top deck's railing. Holding her right thigh piece. "Looking for this?" He asked, with a sly grin on his face.

". . . yes."

Gil laughed, tossing the piece down to her. "Have to be more careful where you, ahem, _shed your armour_ , Lieutenant."

She frowned at the comment, but didn't address it directly. "Where'd you find it?"

"It got lodged under the lift. It's made of some tough material, though. You're lucky I didn't have to beat it back into shape."

"Thanks, Gil."

"No problem, Lieutenant. Maybe next time you'll leave the undressing till you get back to-"

"Shut it."


	7. In the cards

" _I got shot!_ "

"I'm working on it, Gil."

Fact of the matter is, he hadn't really expected (nor wanted) this day to end with them carrying Gil onto the Tempest with the man's shoulder bleeding.

Kadara was still a pirate haven – still an exile haven – and was by no means truly safe for any person. They'd been trading for additional parts to repair an old Angaran frigate when the seller got jumpy for no apparent reason, pulled a gun and aimed at the group. Cora had also drawn a weapon, Scott having told Gil to start backing away – Gil, along with Suvi and Kallo, had the least amount of ground combat experience and was not exactly equipped for those types of scenarios. Long story short, the gun fired, Gil got hit, Cora's biotics flaired, and that was all the seller would write for the next few weeks as he recovered from two broken arms and a not-so-great kneecap.

Kadara's medical centre might have been closer, but Scott had no intention of sticking around any longer then they'd had to. Lexi would just have to meet them there, the asari having also left the ship. She hadn't yet returned but was on her way.

And given that the Pathfinder somehow had more first aid experience then people like Liam Kosta _their crisis specialist_ , he was the one currently tweezers deep pulling a bullet out of one Gil Brodie.

"Cora," He glanced at his 'nurse'. Getting the bullet out was a no-brainer, but patching the engineer up after that? He could put as much pressure on Gil's wound as he liked, but they were fresh out of medigel, the supply shipment to them having been stolen. Otherwise they'd have never made the stop to Kadara to begin with. "Find out how far away Lexi is, please."

She nodded. "I'll be back before you know it. Hang in there, Gil."

"I can't tell if I'm dying!" Gil exclaimed, attention now drawn back to Scott. "Can people tell if they're dying? Is that a thing?"

"How would I know?"

" _You died twice!_ "

Right.

"I try to forget about being dead," Scott finally said. "But you're not going to die. It's just a shoulder wound – it missed anything important."

"Am I supposed to feel woozy then?"

"It's just the drugs, Gil. It's better then feeling cold hard strips of metal pulling out a bigger piece of metal."

"Ugh." He faked a gagging sound. "Why'd you tell me that – I feel ill just thinking about it."

Scott had to hide his chuckle. "Sam, I need an overlay."

With his omnitool highlighting the innards of the shoulder in question and Gil braced against the bed, Scott finally managed to clasp the bullet stuck in the engineer's shoulder between the two prongs of the tweezers, carefully dragging it back through it's entrance wound much to the distaste of his make-do patient.

"Done." He dropped the bullet and tweezers down into the tray, now grabbing the soaking towel to start pressure onto the gaping hole, causing the engineer to emit a low groan. "Tell me about Dian. How's he doing?"

"Doing great." Gil managed to say through grit teeth. "Jill's decided to stay on Eos instead of heading to Meridian."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Something to do with building his immunity up to . . . I don't know. The dirt on Eos, maybe – I honestly don't remember right now." He glanced down at Scott's hand holding the towel – of which was now starting to stain red. "Ugh – regretting that decision."

"Let me know if you're going to be sick."

"Don't say that – I _will_ be sick if you say that."

Scott couldn't help but smile a little at Gil's 'bullet innocence' as Peebee had called it upon witnessing Scott and Cora helping him onto the Tempest.

"How are you settling in as 'dad'?"

Gil almost laughed, instead going for a small scoff in light of the hole in his shoulder. "It's great. I mean, there were a few times there where I thought I'd fall over in exhaustion. I didn't think a baby would be so much of a handful, but it's been pretty great. Jill's going to be _pissed_ about this though. Getting a hit in the shoulder will not do wonders for my baby-holding skills, no sir."

"Blame me. Pathfinder's fault for thinking Kadara was a good place to get EPS conduit during your first week back."

"I've been curious, actually." Gil said, changing the subject again. "Are you and Cora . . .?"

"Are Cora and I . . . what? You already know we're together. _Everyone_ knows we're together." He frowned.

The engineer rolled his eyes. "I mean procreating. Have you thought about it? Being Pathfinder and all, it's probably not on your mind as much, but after all this? If there _is_ an 'after', after all this, of course."

Scott grinned, looking away for a few seconds. "We're . . . passively trying, I guess you could say."

"Ah. Employing the 'fun' version. I get it."

"More like it'll be in the cards when _it's in the cards_."

"Aren't you worried you'll be ill prepared?"

"If we're not prepared, we're not prepared." Scott shrugged. "That's something we'll have to work through when we have to work through it. We want to start a family, but we're happy with being here on Tempest as well. If baby happens, I plan on grounding the Tempest for long service leave."

Gil frowned. "Long service leave? You really think Tann will buy that?"

"There are three other pathfinders itching to do what I do with their own ships. The only reason they're not out here was because Tann thought it wise to 'limit resources that can be potentially stolen by exiles'. Hayjer's already told me he's ready and willing to fill in." He said. "I think my main problem will be you guys. Not sure how Liam or Drack would respond to the ship being grounded. I think they've grown attached."

"Psh. Liam would be too busy with Sid."

"Beg your pardon?"

"Nothing. Nevermind- Lexi! You're looking mighty blue today!"

The asari crossed her arms, looking down at Gill and peeling the Pathfinder's hand. "I can take it from here, Ryder."

With another strange glance back at a now incredibly innocent Gil, Scott got up, taking off the gloves he'd been using and binning them, giving Lexi another thanks and an update as to what had happened.

Finally, he turned to Cora in the doorway. "Let's not do that again."


	8. Not at best

"Sam, lights _down_."

" _They_ are _down, Pathfinder._ "

Whoever thought it was a good idea to have a wall-spanning window on the Tempest without including a shutter feature was an absolute clusterfucker and deserved to be strung up staring at the sun for half an hour. Scott's headache – was it even a headache? - was destroying him.

And Tann was expecting him for a debrief on the Nexus after their second search for the quarian ark. After almost two years, they'd finally received word from the quarian pathfinder. One word. 'Help'.

Given they'd hardly been able to triangulate even a small area as to where the arc could have been from the single-worded communique, helping them had been a hard task. It'd been over a week since they'd received the word, and still no sign of them. Tempest was to return to the Nexus for a refuel and resupply. Pathfinder Ryder would also be debriefed by the council and give a recommendation.

When he'd returned to the Tempest last night, Scott hadn't been in the best of conditions. SAM had picked up a signal _resembling_ what they had on record for the ark in question – given that it was their best lead, they were hardly going to ignore a slight resemblance. He, Liam, Vetra and Peebee had returned with their prides hurt along with other various injuries, because the entire time, Drack was saying it was a trap. It was a well done trap. Why would the ark be planet-side?

 _Shut up, Drack._

The krogan had laughed and walked off to the galley while the rest of them licked their wounds.

Scott's wounds in particular included a dislocated shoulder (re-located on the field, thank you Liam), a fractured skull, and a plasma burn that had eaten through his armour and successfully burnt his side.

So maybe the fractured skull was causing his migraine. Some painkillers in the next twenty minutes, he'd be fine. He could head up to Nexus Operations, live through the hours Tann and the others would keep him as they debated a course of action, then go back to his Nexus apartment and fall into bed with the hopes his partner would join him.

Cora had something to say about that, though. He hadn't made it off the Tempest. "You're not going anywhere in this condition."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're really _not fine_. The only place you're going is the medbay. Tann and Addison can wait." One of her hands was pushing him in the opposite direction of the elevator, back down the corridor and towards the medbay.

"Lexi will _jab me again_."

She sighed, stopping them both in their tracks. Eyes practically closed, shoulders sunken and not at all looking like a Pathfinder at the top of their game. The biotic frowned at him, hands taking either side of his neck, thumbs brushing over the spattering of stubble.

"Scott."

"Mhm?"

"You're staying on the Tempest."

He sighed. "Someone has to go to tell the other pathfinders to head out into open space. There are _people_ missing, probably in danger and Tann is _stalling_ -"

"And we're going to do our best to ignore Tann and find them anyway. But you're not at _your_ best. So do your worrying crew, worrying AI, a favour. Go back to bed. _Recover_. I'll have Lexi com Tann, let her handle him."

She was right – and he knew she was right. The asari was a force of nature when she wanted to be. There weren't many times when he'd gotten onto her bad side, but damn did she rip Addison to shreds that one time.

"I feel like crap," He sighed, lightheaded with every muscle in his body aching. If Cora wasn't in front of him with her stabilizing hands, he probably would have collapsed by now.

"I know you do. And that's why you," She started tugging him back to his quarters. "-are going back to bed."


	9. Malfunction

" _-finder."_

Scott took in a sharp breath, eyes opening to his darkened quarters. He frowned – SAM would have turned the lights on if they'd missed the start of the duty shift. He turned over to look at the clock on the bedside table – and promptly returned his head to his pillow.

"Sam, it's 0300 hours," Scott sighed. "Go back to sleep."

" _Pathfinder, I am detecting a third lifeform within your quarters."_

He groaned, turning over to face Cora's sleeping form again. "I know you're not happy about the hamster, but 3AM is not the time for this conversation."

As if to prove a point, Scott's scanner mysteriously activated into detection mode, vibrating the implant in his arm. He turned over to his stomach, shoving the arm under his chest. "Don't make me override your protocols. It's way too early for this, Sam."

His incessant whispering must have woken Cora too, the biotic stirring in her place under blankets. "Everything okay?" She murmured.

"Sam's malfunctioning," Scott sighed.

"What?"

"I don't know – something about another person in here? Just go back to sleep."

The asari commando instincts kicked in. "Lights," She commanded, sitting up and reaching for the alcolyte pistol she'd finished putting together last night, ignoring Scott's second and pained groan as the lights rose. "Sam, where?"

" _Within your immediate proximity._ "

The Pathfinder rolled back over onto his back, pulling himself up as Cora started searching under their bed. "Cora, there's no-one here," He yawned, rubbing his eyes before squinting into the light.

"Humour me." She threw back to him over her shoulder, getting out of bed.

Though as she started moving away, the vibration in his arm ceased. Scott frowned, flicking at where the implant had been placed for his omnitool. He glanced back at Cora, the biotic searching the room as if she'd been awake for hours beforehand.

None of this made sense. Scott maybe wouldn't have heard or noticed anyone come in, but Cora was a light sleeper – one of the not-so-great perks that came with being part of the asari huntress unit. There was many a time where he woke her up just by opening the door to the quarters. There was no way someone or something could have snuck in without waking her. It was honestly a miracle he hadn't woken her when he responded to SAM the first time.

"Room's clear." Cora stated, putting the pistol down onto the desk next to the hamster, turning to tap at his SAM base. "You feeling okay, Sam?"

If Scott didn't know any better, he would have said that SAM was rather offended at the question. " _I am operating under normal parameters, Lieutenant."_

With a sigh, Scott grabbed the shirt on his bedside table and pulled it on, heaving himself out of the bed to step up behind Cora.

And his scanner vibrated again.

"He's not the only thing malfunctioning." He huffed, switching on his omnitool to have a glance at the readings before rubbing his eyes again.

Cora took his arm, stepping between him and the omnitool to go over the scanner's programming. "Nothing seems wrong with it."

"It's still vibrating."

"I noticed."

And then it clicked. He pulled his arm away from Cora's grasp to run it over her – just to check a hunch if anything else. Then he switched into scanning mode, running the scanner over his partner without her permission.

"You done with the calibrating, Scott?" Cora crossed her arms.

The Pathfinder glanced up at her, eyes properly open as he stared at his partner, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Scott was by no means a doctor. During his time in Andromeda, he'd had to undergo some field medic training by necessity, and as the Tempest CO, Lexi had had a long talk with him about the medical profiles (or what she could talk about given doctor/patient confidentiality). But this tested the basic stuff taught in _high school._ "I found Sam's third lifeform."

"What is it, a parasite?"

If it was any other scenario, if it was anyone else, he'd be chuckling over SAM's interpretation of what he was picking up. He blinked. "I think that's what _Sam_ thinks."

Cora frowned, stepping back into his arms again to read the data accumulated from his scanner. She ran her fingers through her hair. "An embryo."

"An embryo," Scott repeated, a smile stretching across his face as he kissed the top of her head.

She huffed. "Damn that scanner. I haven't even started symptoms yet."

He chuckled, shutting the omnitool off as he pulled her into a tight hug. "Gives us a head start."

The biotic pulled away, hands resting against is neck again as their foreheads touched, a smile spreading on her face. "Yeah, it does." She nodded a little against him. "But it is still way too early to get excited. Everything and anything can still go wrong-"

"Hey," He took her hands in his, placing a kiss to both. "Conception occurred."

Cora huffed a laugh, looking away for a few seconds before staring back into those blue eyes, nodding in agreement. "Conception occurred."


	10. Cold

When they'd run into the power draining anomaly, Kallo had been mortified at Suvi's idea – and Ryder's final decision. They couldn't pass through the anomaly without risking further power drain. And with a collection of rescued drell and quarians in his cargo hold, going around and maneuvering through the Scourge was not a risk he was willing to take right now. They had enough dextro supplies to last them another two weeks, having anticipated the quarian mouths to feed, and the drell were honestly happy amongst themselves. It was just a relief they hadn't been required to provide for any hanar.

He was starting to rethink his strategy when SAM reported the all-time low temperature of -9 degrees Celsius.

The Tempest ground crew had suited up in their armor – the life support system was equipped well enough to at least give short bursts of warmth when desperately required, not that Drack or Vetra had actually needed it apparently. Liam and Jaal had set up temporary heaters in corners of the hold to assist their new passengers – the drell were relatively alright, minus a few of the younger ones requiring some additional blankets, but the quarians were suffering from suit malfunctions left and right. It was a god-send that their time in stasis had done wonders for their immune system, but Lexi hadn't stopped watching them all like a mother hawk and had ushered out all non-essential crew. Suvi, geared up in her science uniform and having been disinfected to the eyeballs, was assisting.

Peebee had borrowed a jumper from Cora, shivering her way through the night. Kallo seemed perfectly fine somehow, as if his salarian nature had all but made him immune to the cold – or maybe he was just wearing some kind of flightsuit.

His passengers and most of his crew had been taken care of. Now his main concern was Cora, who, unlike the rest of his team, did not have a heating system in her armor. Though in hindsight, maybe their time on Voeld should have really made that a priority.

"How're you doing?" Scott asked, cosying up next to her on the Tempest's bridge. She'd been up here to keep an eye on the scanners (the only thing, aside from the flight controls, that had power) as Kallo 'glided' them through the anomaly. Given that there was nothing else out here, other than the Scourge and a small boatload of quarians and drell, having her standing here with a hoodie on and three blankets didn't feel worth it.

"Not great," She admitted. "Not sure how long I can keep standing in this cold. Floor's freezing, though."

"Yeah, if the temperature drops any lower, we'll have to look out for ice formations."

Through her teeth chattering, she made an amused noise akin to the laugh. "The colonists?"

"We've got one kid not doing so well holed up in the drive core with Gil." Scott glanced at her. "I'm tempted to have you join them."

"Not sure what it'd do. Drive core is only a couple degrees warmer. Not like it's active right now."

"Gil will have to give us a boost of speed in another ten minutes or so for us to clear the anomaly," Kallo chimed in from the flight controls. "It'll be warmer then."

Scott's hand pressed against her forehead. Against what he thought her reaction would be, she leaned _into_ the touch. "Cora, you're not even giving off any body heat."

" _Lieutenant Harper's core temperature is becoming dangerously low for someone under her current health category._ " SAM added – and if Scott was concerned before, he had alarm klaxons going off in his head now.

Thankfully, though, she gave a surrendering sigh. "Alright, alright. Now I've got three of you ganging up on me."

She tried to take a step forward, and a combination of the amount of blankets she was holding onto around her shoulders and just the sheer exhaustion the cold was coaxing out of her had her stumbling into Scott's arms. With a shiver of his own, he lifted her up off her feet, blankets and all, tucking her into his chest as he started heading out of the bridge. "How the hell have you been standing there?"

"Sheer force of will," She shuddered.

"Sam, call Lexi to the drive core."

Cora coughed. "Eighty people in the cargo hold suffering from the same problem and you're pulling our doctor away to take a look at your second in command?"

He dropped his voice to be only heard by Cora. "My second in command also happens to be the mother of my unborn child – no one else in that hold is pregnant."

"It's a fetus at best."

" _Whatever_. Let me be concerned for your health and well-being."

They hadn't told everyone yet – only Lexi, though she'd been alerted by SAM when Scott had to explain the process of reproduction (which, quite frankly, merely resulted in him directing the AI to medical journals he was positive someone had brought with them on the 600 year journey, a bit miffed that Alec Ryder hadn't taken it upon himself to explain that Sara and Scott hadn't just mysteriously appeared out of thin air). Cora and Scott hadn't exactly had the chance to tell her themselves.

The rest of the crew were in the dark until Cora thought it was best – wishes Scott understood and respected, but it was hard keeping this from his own sister, whom had also taken up residence on the Tempest. Even SAM was laying low after Cora gave him instructions to _tell no one else_. Work resumed as usual from that day forward, only prompting the occasional check in from Scott as to how she was feeling – the Pathfinder had suddenly become slightly more attentive to his second, but the others seemed to think it was no more then usual.

Here, even though he regretted making the decision to cut power to just about everything on Cora's currently shivering part, the needs of the many sprung to mind. And she wouldn't have forgiven him if he'd decided to take the chance and have Kallo fly them through whatever this thing was and risk not having the power to get them home purely because she was pregnant.

So yes. Even though they were coming up to some freezing temperatures, even though Cora was not at her best right now and could hardly muster the energy to stand, this next hour or two of no heating was worth being able to get back to the Nexus. It was also worth him fussing over her.


	11. Grounded

"I don't know how you were raised, _lover boy,_ but we don't kiss and tell here in Andromeda."

"What the _hell_ are you talking about!?"

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!"

" _Back off_ , Nyx."

Scott should have expected problems when a member of his crew started dating the sister of a member of his crew. There was an unhealthy amount of firearms aboard the Tempest – one or two were occasionally left laying about, in the middle of being cleaned or put together. In Liam's case, he'd just finished modifying the barrel of his carnifex.

There were reasons why he both understood and absolutely deplored why he'd walked into the Tempest's cargo hold to find Liam pulling a gun and aiming at Vetra. The turian had clearly been advancing on him, intending to harm, but at the same time, she _wasn't_ armed. For a crisis specialist, he was doing a piss-poor job of managing his own crisis. Scott could hardly believe his eyes.

He may not have had the biotic skill of someone like Cora, per se, but he'd been practising enough that he could pull that pistol from Liam from his position on the second level. " _That's enough!_ "

Good. He'd gained the attention of both human and turian, Vetra having already taken a step back from Liam.

"Vetra, take a walk."

" _Ryder-_ "

" _Take. A. Walk."_ He forced. "I'll talk to you when you've cooled down."

Her eyes pierced his, before throwing a glance at the other man, snorting her unhappiness and stomping to the room she'd claimed off the cargo hold. Liam, though he shouldn't have, looked rather relieved.

"Thanks, Ryder."

"Oh no. You don't get to thank me," Scott shook his head. "You've just made me your worst nightmare."

The Pathfinder made his way down the ladder, striding over to where Liam was no less confident of himself. He wasn't prepared to have any back-talk, wasn't intending on listening to whatever excuse the other man had intended on making. "I don't care what you and Vetra were arguing about. But I shouldn't have to tell you that you _do not point a gun at another member of this team_. No matter _what_ has happened."

"She was-"

"No, Liam. There's no excuse. I just watched you pull weapon and you fully intended on using it." He shoved the pistol into Liam's hands. "I honestly would have preferred walking into a fist-fight. If I'd have come in thirty seconds later, there would have either been a bullet in the hull, or a bullet in Vetra. I can't stop bullets with biotics, Liam. I'm not Cora or Peebee – and I honestly doubt _their_ bullet-stopping capabilities. So the next time I see you, you and Vetra better have sorted whatever the hell that was out, because until then, you're grounded and forbidden weapons privileges."

Liam gaped at him, blinking as if the Pathfinder had just slapped him across the face. " _She would have attacked me!_ "

"So you're saying that if it had of been Cora, or Drack, or God forbid, _me_ , you'd have done the same thing?" Scott snapped, moving away from Liam and starting towards Vetra's room. "Until such time Vetra's told me that you've sorted this out, you're done til we get back to the Nexus. I'll have Cora grab your gear."

With Liam sufficiently handled for now, his next victim was the turian sister. Which, admittedly, would be slightly more difficult to handle. Scott had an inkling suspicion as to what this was about.

Scott hated this, acting like the asshole CO, putting his foot down. His team was a unit - with the title of "Pathfinder", he was considered the leader, but ultimately, there were very few times where he actually _lead_. He spoke for the team, pointed them in the direction, but ultimately, it was all in or none at all. He could count the amount of times he'd had to be the tie-breaker or forced the others into something on both hands. So stepping between two of his team, laying down the law they already knew . . . it was unpleasant. Though had it been Cora or Drack that caught the two of them in that position, likely they'd have been marginally less merciful, given their backgrounds.

He didn't start speaking until the doors had shut, awarding Vetra a little more privacy then he had Liam. "Start talking."

"He broke up with Sid."

Scott frowned, crossing his arms. "And this is relevant to you, how?"

The turian stood, a distinctive kind of fury in her eyes as she stood toe to toe with Scott Ryder. "He was spreading _lies_ about her. I am her sister – I _protect_ her. You'd have done the same thing if it was Sara!"

That was mildly debatable. Sara honestly would have just kicked Liam's ass. "No. Sara can handle herself – as can Sid, as she's proven to you time and time again. Liam's not a mercenary going after her, Vetra. He's a newly-ex-boyfriend."

"He's being an _asshole_!"

"You've spent two years working with him – since when is Liam capable of spreading unpleasant rumors? He's a gossip at best. Sid or her sources may have misinterpreted what was said."

"Are you calling my sister a liar?"

"Not everything she _hears_ is truth. Liam might not be the one with malicious intent here. And until you two have worked out this issue you've got with each other, you're both done until we get back to the Nexus. That should be enough time for you to both think about why attacking each other was a bad idea."

Scott turned on his heel, stopping only when Vetra called out after him.

"We're stopping at Meridian, not the Nexus."

He glanced over his shoulder, making it perfectly clear. " _Grounded. Until. Nexus._ "


	12. It's a common injury

" _Pathfinder, I believe Lieutenant Harper is exhibiting signs of distress._ "

Contrary to the popular belief of the Nexus leadership, Scott Ryder did actually _think_ before he acted. There were times where he just didn't _need_ to think, ala telling one not-so-fine kett leader exactly where to shove it, telling krogan exactly where to shove it, and occasionally shooting one or two consoles in anger management (that last one only happened during extreme circumstances).

One of the team was injured or, as SAM so put it, 'showing signs of distress'? It'd peak his interest, sure, but he wouldn't launch head-long into whatever situation they'd gotten themselves into without thinking over the consequences to all who would be involved. Did he have an itchy trigger-finger? Maybe. But Jaal wouldn't have the scar on his cheek if he hadn't learned how to control said itchy trigger-finger.

So Cora, showing 'signs of distress' whilst on the Tempest . . . not something he'd race into unless he wanted her to throw weights at him again. After the revelation to SAM, the AI had begun taking it upon himself to alert Scott whenever her vitals were 'above average', even when she was just going through her exercise routine. It was strange that an AI was mildly more concerned with her health then he, the father to the 'parasite' Cora was currently harboring. He had to go through a series of questions to determine whether checking up on her was worth the potential danger.

"Where is she?" He finally asked the AI, putting down the datapad as he contemplated his next move.

" _Bathroom facilities_."

Not a place SAM usually became concerned over Cora's health. Scott got up out of his chair, taking a quick stride out of the galley and across the corridor to the bathroom.

The door wouldn't move. "Sam?"

" _This door is currently locked._ "

Scott crossed his arms, giving a deep frown as he stared at nothing in particular (or, rather, SAM, assuming he could actually see Scott's expression).

" _I will override the command._ "

"Thank you."

The door opened to reveal a mostly-naked Cora standing at the bathroom mirror fresh from a shower – shoulder . . . not so great. If Scott had complained about a shoulder dislocation back when they'd gone to find the quarian ark, Cora's injury put him to shame.

But damn. She wasn't even uttering a single complaint as he entered the bathroom.

"Did you enjoy your trip?" Scott smirked, noting the water next to the shower cubicle – she must have slipped or tripped over the two-centimetre high base-lining. Wouldn't be the first time.

She sighed. "Tell anyone, and I will break you."

"Only person I'm telling is Lexi," He said, stepping up to her side careful not to touch her left arm or shoulders. "SAM knows, though."

"I figured."

"So what's the plan here? Am I resetting it, or would you rather Lexi?"

Cora gave a small huff, blowing away wet hair from her eyes to little avail. She motioned to the shirt on the bench. "No offense," She breathed as Scott carefully helped her into what turned out to be a loose tank top. "But I think I'd prefer Lexi. You do this too much."

"No offense taken. C'mon – she's in the medbay going over angaran and asari mating studies."

"Great. I'm gonna get a whole speech, aren't I?"

He chuckled, one of his hands on her hip and the other on the right arm, guiding her carefully over the wet patches in the bathroom and out the door. "Just blame me. It always comes back to me, anyway."


	13. Muted

"You really think pairing Liam up with Vetra was a good idea?"

Scott set the sniper rifle up against the rock bank, calibrating it's targeting system, looking through the scope as he considered his answer. They were all decked out in their armor – Liam and Vetra had been tasked with entering a kijor command outpost and disabling the shield that was securely wrapped around an oil tank, the Pathfinder and his second responsible for demolishing said oil tank. He'd have to give them enough time between them shutting down the shield and their getting the hell out of there, lest they get caught up in the explosion, but it was a solid enough plan.

Until you factored in the com chatter he kept picking up from Vetra and Liam, the two still seeming to have problems with one another that extended way past 'upset Vetra's sister' now. The gun-pointing hadn't happened again, but even though there were no serious arguments, it was clear Liam was not going out of his way to behave overly acceptable and Vetra wasn't even trying to rein in any additional problems she'd had with the man. Part of him wondered why he hadn't just sent Peebee and Sara and saved himself the ongoing headache.

"Think of it like a team-building exercise," He finally said, loading incendiary rounds into the rifle. "The more they work together, the more likely they'll finally start being able to deal with each other."

"Pretty sure they should have worked out how to tolerate each other after two years working together, Ryder." Cora said.

"They both have a lot on their mind. As soon as they work out they're in the same boat, things will be quieter, and I don't have to worry about either of them wrecking the ship."

The biotic sighed, scanning the area for anymore kett or kijor soldiers or operatives. "Lexi thinks this should be my last outing."

He glanced at her quickly, before returning to the scope. "And what do _you_ think?"

"I think you're acting weird about having me here."

The Pathfinder scoffed. "I'm not acting 'weird'. How am I acting weird?"

"You saw me suiting up and asked if I was sure I was up for this." She crossed her arms. "Given that we've seen a totally of five guys here, I think you were freaking out over nothing."

Scott sighed. "It's not about you being pregnant, and you _know_ it. You busted your shoulder last week – of course I'm going to be concerned. Use an assault rifle for half an hour, and recoil is gonna be a bitch."

The comment didn't really brighten her spirits. "Thank you for the concern. But I think I know how to handle a weapon after an injury. Hence," She raised the shotgun.

". . . that's really not making me feel any better."

"Just line up your damn shot."

He rolled his eyes. Cora had become . . . not _sensitive_ about the pregnancy – not really. Just overall she was annoyed about the slight difference of treatment, which was why she'd opted to not clue in the rest of the team until the decision about their active duty status would be made. This did not, however, exclude Lexi from the smaller, private details. The asari fussing over her every time she'd essentially stubbed a toe had not gone down particularly well. Neither had SAM's continued concern. There was solace in Scott's steady feigned ignorance of the situation, the Pathfinder instead focusing his attentions towards her when they'd gone to bed for the night, leaving most of his questions until then.

Honestly, though, they were questions she either didn't or couldn't answer anyway. Lexi had not given her exact details about everything that was happening. Though their equipment was sensitive enough to pick up every snippet of information possible at this time, they'd opted to not know until they needed to know, or had the time and energy to really know. True to Cora's work ethic, all efforts were focused on the quarian ark's rescue, and not her personal life.

Was not telling Sara killing him every time he stepped out the door of his quarters? Yes. Yes it was. There was a time and a place, and getting quarian, drell and hanar colonists back to safety was not the time, nor was a damaged Tempest the place.

After this, they had to head directly to Nexus and hope Gil could keep the ship together while they did it.

"Shot's lined up. How are they doing?"

"They're still talking on their com. I think they're decrypting a security console. You don't know what they're saying?" Cora questioned.

"I muted them half an hour ago."


	14. The announcement

It was nice, being able to kick back and relax in one of the less-loud establishments on the Nexus. Over two years, and only now were there places for Operations personnel to finally have a meal without loud music pumping through their ears.

These gatherings used to take place on the Tempest. Now, however, Fraticelli's was a wine and dine . . . and gather. Dextro food also available for their turian crew member, of course. The crew of twelve had taken up a corner of the place, spread across couches with dishes of finger food and various other 'treats'.

Cuddled up close with Cora, Scott was finding himself surprisingly well at peace as he watched his crew interact. Gil and Kallo were no longer bickering _as much_ , currently trading tidbits about an upgrade to the aft thrusters of the Tempest using some kind of rem-tech, Lexi bravely attempting to moderate – Scott was so far behind in understanding what in Andromeda they were actually saying, but he assumed it was in that area and was honestly close to applauding Lexi for even trying to keep up given that he had absolutely no chance. Peebee, Sara and Suvi were deep in discussion about the kijor's rather unnatural enthrallment abilities. Meanwhile, taking up the ends of two corner couches, Liam, Drack, Vetra and Jaal were trading combat stories – at last, a conversation involving Vetra and Liam that didn't also include an argument.

Cora and Scott were simply tired. It was wrong to say they were being anti-social, but they'd opted to not actively participate in any of the exciting conversations. They had their feet up on a coffee table, Cora leaning her head on his shoulder as he traced the palms of her hands with his fingers. He was quietly asking nonsense questions, mainly to keep himself awake if anything else. Just anything from experience with singularities to her opinion of the Initiative's latest uniform design change.

"I think now would be a good time to tell them," Cora mumbled, reaching a hand up to run through his hair.

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Shr shrugged. "It's as good as time as any. Look at them all – all happy and drinking. Perfect time to tell them you're temporarily reassigning them in a few weeks time."

Scott scoffed a laugh, a knowing smile spreading as he pressed his lips to her hair.

"Ryder!" Drack exclaimed, startling Scott somewhat as he shifted his attention from Cora to the not-so-sober krogan. The human was kind of hoping he'd been addressing his sister, but alas, those eyes were focused squarely on him. "Neither of you have touched your drinks!"

The 'neither' also had nothing to do with his sister, but Sara's attention had also been torn away from her discussion, glancing between Scott and Drack, her tone playful. "You don't drink, you pay me back."

He frowned at her, stretching the arm not currently trapped between Cora and the couch. "Sorry, sis. I'll pay you back tomorrow."

"C'mon Ryder," Liam complained from his place next to Jaal in the corner. "This is time for you to let loose! You're coming with us to Vortex after this, right?"

Scott laughed again. "I promise you, I am quite loose. So much so," He glanced at Cora. "I'm so relaxed I'm not even going to worry about whatever backlash you all have for me."

It was he'd somehow summoned all their eyes, most of them quietly trying to judge what exactly he was about to say. Gil, by the looks of things, had already worked most of it out, being the only one who'd relaxed further into his chair, a smug smile on his face. Cora shifted, allowing him to sit up properly and rest his elbows on his knees.

"As of next month," The Pathfinder announced. "The human pathfinding team, including non-human members, will be shutting down-"

He hadn't been able to finish before the crew launched into their various reactions and stages of shock, the most amusing being Liam accidentally spilling his drink into Jaal's lap and their krogan team member dutifully demanding exactly what "that salarian" had done and promising to go marching into his office and slamming his face into a window. The doctor and engineer had sat back quietly laughing with each other, whilst their pilot was stammering about how the Tempest was performing above expected parameters of it's currently age.

The Pathfinder was tempted to let the fun continue, but Cora wasn't having any more of it. " _Enough_."

They all shut up, leaving only one giggling Gil Brodie and an upset, wet angaran as Scott continued. " _Thank_ you. As I was saying, the team will be on long service leave for a year or so."

"But _you're the Pathfinder!_ " Liam stammered. "You practically wrote the _manual_! Why is Tann doing this?"

"It's not Tann – if anything, Tann's actually pretty annoyed that I'm pulling out for a while," Scott sighed. "It's all me."

The turian narrowed her eyes, speaking slowly. "Ryder, you seem way too relaxed about this. Are you high on something?"

"What?" He frowned. "No. I'm no _high_ , I haven't been _impaired_ , I'm not _drunk_. I am perfectly sober, and I have all my faculties."

"Then _what the hell,_ Ryder!?" Peebee demanded with an onlooking and concerned Suvi. "You're just gonna call it quits? Toss it aside and let Harper take the reins!?"

"Oh, I'm not taking command," Cora clarified, pouring herself a new glass of water. "I'm going with him."

That only seemed to anger their crowd more, seven of them throwing out insults and challenges of some kind, mainly blaming the absent Nexus leadership. But it was Sara who pulled Scott's attention, his sister leaning forward and addressing him. "Scott, what is going on? It's been over two years – you can't just up and turn your back on dad now."

He sighed. They were misunderstanding – and honestly, who knows what Alec Ryder would have said to this, what their _mother_ would have said to all this. It was unlikely she'd be woken from stasis before his child's birth – the idea that she'd wake up to find her kids with _kids_ was weird in itself. He was, quite frankly, terrified of going at this alone with neither of his own parents to give advice. Cora seemed steadfast as ever, confident and head-strong. She'd had time to accept her parents' disappearance.

But Ellen Ryder was _right there_ in the Hyperion's cryo-bay down on Meridian, and the way they were going with a cure, they might be able to wake her sooner then expected. Part of him wanted her there for support. As much as he loved Sara, appreciated her being there as his shoulder when he needed it, she'd had even less experience then Scott did with child-rearing, regardless of the "age gap" they so fondly like to remind themselves of.

"Cora and I are expecting." He finally said.

His sister blinked, head bowing a little as she went over exactly what he'd said to her. She huffed, a smiled spreading at the edges of her mouth as her eyes met his once again. "Why didn't you just _lead with that_?"


	15. Water

Pathfinder Scott Ryder was already having a bad day before he'd ended up in this particular pickle. He'd argued with Lexi about his health whilst suiting up with Jaal and Vetra – seizing in his sleep had not been awesome, as Cora would agree, though the biotic commando opted to stay silent as she fixed up the outer shell of his armor, securing it all properly with practiced hands. They still knew next to nothing about this kijor "Pathfinder! Kill kill!" attitude they had going, but they were clearly capable of fantasy, brain-melting shit from a distance. So when Tann had sent word about group of armed exiles holding hanar captive, the crew had been less then eager about Scott joining in.

It was one of the few times he'd had to put his foot down. And then promise that this would be "the last one".

The exiles were down (negotiated with, or so Scott had thought), the hanar on their way to being released for there were supposedly two. Scott had been following one of said exiles as Jaal and Vetra assisted their own overly-thankful hanar as Scott retrieved the second.

Except there was no hanar down this corridor. There wasn't even a corridor down this corridor. It had been a sudden and long drop - the booster jets did not have enough time to compensate. And the hole of water was something his armor, and SAM, were not prepared for. And then the grating at the top slid across as the asshole who dropped him here walked away.

His armor's life support system kicked in to regulate the water's freezing temperature, but it wouldn't last for long. Said water was rising – already above his hips, and the distance between him and that grating was not far enough for his liking. "Sam!?"

" _Attempting to restore communications._ "

"What do you mean, _attempting to restore_!? You had a perfect com signal all the way down in a fucking _vault_ – are you seriously telling me you've got _nothing_ down here?"

" _Stand by._ "

Of course.

* * *

"They've set up dampening fields around five different locations, Lieutenant. Cutting through them all will take time."

Suvi's words had hardly quelled the anxiety in her chest, with the attributing of SAM's sudden silence to just a disconnect by a damn _field_ of some kind. Cora glanced back at Drack and Sara. "Suit up. I've got a bad feeling that this is about to get complicated" The krogan grunted in acknowledgement, already ready to go as Sara sprinted off to go get her weaponry. She turned her attention back to Suvi. "How long will it take to cut through?"

"I'm almost-"

She was interrupted by a static-ridden Vetra Nyx. " _Tempest, can you_ hear _me?"_

"Barely," Cora answered. "They've switched on dampening equipment – cutting through the interference is gonna take some time. Where's Ryder?"

" _We got separated. Jaal is escorting the hanar – I'm going back for Ryder._ "

Because of course Scott separated himself from the rest of the team just before a time of crisis. Just . . . _of course_. "Try to disable as many of those damn fields as you can while you do it."

* * *

"Sam, how long until the life support fails?"

" _At this rate of energy consumption, I estimate approximately five minutes before failure."_

Great. Not only was the water licking at his chest, but it was also about to get super icy, and his armor would weigh him down in the water. Not to mention that he could hardly hear himself thinking over water showering down the wall behind him, forcing him to speak up. "You _'_ re _guessing_?"

" _The flowing water is not the same-_ "

"Nevermind, forget I asked." Scott snapped. "How's contact with the Tempest coming?"

" _There seems to be a dampening field eradicated around this tank. I am unable to cut through interference._ "

"Can we at least get through to Vetra and Jaal?"

" _I believe they are also affected._ "

"Keep trying."

" _There is also another matter, Pathfinder. To limit cold shock response, I recommend we begin reducing power to temperature regulation._ "

Scott nodded his head, on the same line of thought. "Yeah, I get it - have a heart attack once, risk for another increased. Do it, Sam."

As the temperature in his armor started to drop slowly, but still enough to be a noticeable difference, Scott begun shedding all the non-essential items. Worst case scenario, if he spent longer then fifteen minutes in freezing cold water, the equipment wouldn't do him any favours in trying to stay afloat.

Freezing cold water aside, his next concern was being forced under by that grating in the event he was pulled upwards by the rising flow. It had to go – else he was a contender for drowning. He pulled out his pistol, squinting through the specks of water being thrown at his face, and fired an incendiary round at the grating. The round simply ricocheted off. _Damn it._ "Sam, you got any suggestions about this grating?"

" _You may be able to slide it back through the use of biotics._ "

"I won't diss it til I try it. Load up the adept profile."

He'd never gotten used to how his body shivered with each profile load-up, like his brain was switching gears and his nervous system was a little slow to respond. The implant in the back of his neck got just that little bit warmer as he focused his energy.

But Scott was no super-biotic, he was reminded when, despite all his energy being put into it, the grating didn't budge. He'd almost fallen into the water because of the effort.

"Swap back to infiltration," He huffed, unbuckling the chestpiece of his armor. "We're not getting through there unless someone opens it up top."

* * *

"Connection to Sam has been restored!" Suvi exclaimed.

"Sam, what's happening?" Cora demanded.

" _Standy by._ "

She growled. "Damn it, Sam, don't pull that with me."

" _Cora?_ "

That wasn't SAM's voice. She gave a breath of relief, going over the readings of the ship to try and pull Scott's coordinates, give Vetra a direction to head to. "Scott, you okay?"

" _Uh, could be better. I'm in a freezing water tank and there's a serious threat of drowning coming up. You?_ "

"Not nearly as bad. Where are you? Vetra and the others are looking for you."

" _I honestly don't know. But someone needs to turn off this water and buy me some time._ "

Not good. He was talking about _buying_ time – everything he was saying he was meaning literally, which just slashed their timetable. And thinking professionally about this was getting marginally harder.

Lexi, having already been on stand-by, was stepping up next to her. "Sam, how long has he been in the water for?"

" _Eight minutes,_ " The AI replied. " _Ryder's life support systems will fail in two. I've begun reducing temperature to minimize CSR._ "

"What's his temperature?"

" _Thirty five degrees Celsius."_

" _Great. So I get to choose between hypothermia and drowning._ " The Pathfinder scoffed.

Both were equally unacceptable in Cora's eyes. "How long until you go underwater?"

" _The water dumps change in consistency. I'd say I'd go hypothermic first, but I've probably just jinxed it._ "

" _This is correct,_ " SAM confirmed. " _At the water's current rate of elevation, it is likely Ryder's core temperature will drop to thirty three degrees Celsius._ "

" _I really don't intend on being here for twenty minutes – please tell me somebody has a plan._ "

She wanted to say that she did – she truly, desperately wanted to say that yes, she had a plan, they could find him within that time frame, get him the hell out of there, but in reality? She had few ideas. "Stand by," She said, ignoring his huff of annoyance as she turned to Kallo in the pilot's seat. "Sam can't give us coordinates to his location. Can the Tempest's sensors cut through?"

"I've already been trying," The salarian said. "I've never seen this kind of interference before."

It wasn't exactly the answer she'd wanted to hear.

* * *

His entire body was tense, but if he had to pick a part that hurt most, he'd say it was the ache in his chest. His rib-cage felt like it was closing in on itself, and the uncontrollable shivering underwater wasn't exactly helping. Scott's feet were no longer touching the bottom of the tank, and the suit had officially failed. All parts of his armor had been shed – he didn't even spare a thought about how they'd retrieve it later, if they'd retrieve it at all. The only thing he'd kept on his person was his pistol, though honestly, given that he was no treading water and it weighed more then his arm did right now, he was questioning the point.

"If I fire an incendiary round into the water, do you think it'll warm this place up a bit?"

SAM practically scolded him for the suggestion, though his response was uncharacteristically slow. " _No, Pathfinder._ "

"Figures." He breathed, trying to keep his lungs going in an even fashion, but the splashing of water wasn't exactly helping his case. "Have they made any progress?"

There was an eerie silence, no voice on the private channel in his head. And it was frightening to think that SAM had fled. There was no comforting reassurance from the AI. The Pathfinder wasn't even sure if the AI was still active.

It was time to start thinking about the outcome for that 'worst case scenario'.

"Sam, if you can still hear me," Scott huffed, dropping the pistol from his grasp. This was it. He'd resigned himself to this, as much as he didn't want to. "Disconnect from me. Transfer yourself back to SAM node. And . . . prep Cora Harper for pathfinder protocol."

* * *

SAM had ceased contact with the Tempest a little less then ten minutes ago now, having stated that Scott's vitals were his main priority. They'd finally been given a live feed to said vitals, of which Lexi was studying and giving regular suggestions to the AI to upkeep. Drack and Vetra were scouring the place looking for him while Sara and Peebee went to attack the water flow controls. Neither team had had any luck.

Jaal had returned with the hanar, Liam assisting in making the prothean-loving being comfortable whilst the rest of them turned their attention squarely on their absent pathfinder. Including the time his suit had been active, SAM had clocked Scott as being in the water for twenty five minutes. The last they'd heard from the AI, he'd warned about the water level – and then he went dark to focus on Scott.

So when he returned to the Tempest in all his full AI glory, she'd struggled to maintain her facade of calm.

" _Scott Ryder has been disconnected from SAM node._ "

Jaal had had to hold her up, stop her from falling as her legs gave way. It was like her entire world had just caved in on itself. There was no air, no gravity - none of the fundamental things that kept her going.

He was giving up.

How _dare_ he give up. How was that _fair_?

"No. Over-ride. My authorization. You reconnect and you keep his heart going." She spat, pushing herself away from Jaal, reopening the comlink to Scott – of which they'd closed at Lexi's recommendation. "Scott, what the hell are you doing?"

" _It's a . . . precaution._ "

"For _what_?"

Even over the com, she could hear how tired he was. " _I don't want what happened to Avitus to happen to you. The turian Sam got corrupted during transfer – with our Sam safely disconnected, if anything happens, he'll be okay. It's for Sam's own good._ "

He was at the brink of his own life, yet the bastard was still thinking about everyone else. She was going to slap him when he got back onboard. "Sam won't be able to restart your heart."

" _Cora, we have to face it. Best case scenario, this water flow gets shut off, or the grating opens. But I'll lose consciousness before anyone can get to me. In ten minutes time, I will drown._ " There was a pause. " _Sam can't do much good if I'm not breathing oxygen._ "

There had to be a way – a contingency, a way to pull him out, to fix all this, to go back in time and tell him to stop being an idiot and of course he shouldn't have gone on this mission.

" _Cora,_ " Scott had managed to say softly. _"I love you._ "

She glanced back down at his vitals, now no longer as extensive given his disconnected pathfinder status. While Sara, Peebee, Vetra and Drack were all in a green zone, without SAM to regulate everything he was doing, Scott was now rapidly declining. And he was right – he was right in saying that SAM couldn't do anything more. She closed her eyes, turning away from the console, holding back a sob.

"I love you, too."

They were better then this, she promised herself.

" _I found Ryder!_ "

* * *

Scott finally came to two days later in the Tempest's medbay, body shivering uncontrollably for a moment as he pulled together his bearings. It was chilly in here, yes, but at least he wasn't freezing.

And then he got slapped in the face.

He'd hardly had time to even complain before familiar and warm lips met his, her hand snaking around the back of his head and through his hair.

Cora pulled back, eyes meeting his. "Never, _ever,_ do that to me again."

He smirked, kissing the inside of her wrist. "Yes, ma'am."


	16. Game

The Tempest crew off-loaded Scott and Cora on the Nexus, for the ship to be taken back and temporarily 'stored' on Meridian – temporarily under Sara Ryder's command. He didn't know how long he'd spend on the Nexus, now settled in their new apartment on the station, but he imagined, given the regular intervals of consultation he'd already been required to give even before they settled, he thought it was a smart idea.

Now, still recovering from a mild cold (the surprisingly minor consequence to his mild hypothermia), Scott walked out of the bedroom wrapped in one of the blankets pulled from the bed, finding his partner seated at a table – feet kicked up onto another chair – and deep in a match of kotor tactics with one Sarissa Theris.

"Geth rocket trooper," Cora laid a card down onto the board, placed behind her favoured 'asari commando'.

He'd had to blink. Usually Cora only played against Liam or Gil, opting to play the game over drinks as she absolutely slaughtered everybody. Scott hardly understood the game, but it was one of the few things that brought her joy when she'd found out Liam had smuggled not only a couch but kotor tactics as well. The latest version before they'd left the Milky Way, no less.

Sarissa's presence was . . . also unexpected. Two and a half years was a long time for Cora to think over and come to terms with Sarissa's ultimate tactic. She'd supported the idea of removing Sarissa from her new 'pathfinder' status – one Scott himself was against. He'd understood the decision to leave Ishara behind – he hadn't necessarily supported, but hindsight vision was 20-20. Without the information on the kett, the Leusinia might have been in even worse condition before his team had gotten to it.

Given what they'd faced so far, putting forth an inexperienced pathfinder to lead the asari ark had not felt like a viable option. Did the asari have the same faith in Sarissa as they would have Vederia? Probably not. But he was sure glad he'd made that decision when Hyperion hit Meridian's deck.

She may not have been best buds with Cora, but at least they seem to be on well enough terms that she was at least entertaining a friendly strategy game.

"Am I interrupting something?" Scott asked, shuffling through the living area over to the bench, pulling out a mug to start making himself some coffee.

Cora looked over her shoulder. "Just a tough game, that's all."

"Cora's trying her damnedest to stay on top," Sarissa added. "Sorry. Did we wake you?"

"Nah. Need to start prepping myself for early wake-up calls anyway." He said, amused when Cora shot him a cautionary look over her shoulder before going back to her cards – not that it was actually early. The Nexus was simulating daylight outside. "How's it going, Sarissa?"

"Good," She huffed, sifting through her cards. "I came by to ask if I could recruit one or two of your people for a recon mission, but I didn't know you were down for the count."

The human pathfinder smirked. "You know I'm required by protocol to check my messages daily?"

"I wanted the excuse to come by personally and congratulate you both on the impending little one," The asari clarified, before laying down a card. "Pull up a chair! I'm about to crush your baby's mother with a biotic barrier."

Cora's shoulders sank with a heavy sigh, Scott setting his steaming mug down and pulling up a chair as she resigned herself to dealing him in with five character cards and attack specs.

"Go easy on me," He took a sip of coffee. "I'm at a disadvantage."

Sarissa chuckled. "Tela Vasir is stuck in barrier unless either of you have something that trumps."

He flicked through his cards – two Blood Pack characters, a Shadow Broker agents, Archangel, and, low and behold, Commander Shepard.

"Scott," Cora said. "I can't believe I'm begging, but please for the love of the goddess, save your child the embarrassment of being related to a once-champion defeated by the asari pathfinder."

He smirked, leaning back in his chair and taking a deep breath before shuffling through his attack specs. "I think I got you covered."

Scott placed his cards down. "Commander Shepard with a Mako literally and effectively blows Vasir to pieces." He took a proud sip from his mug.

Cora's once mopey expression lightened as she sat up properly, crossing her legs as she gave a smug smile towards Sarissa. "Human pathfinder team wins again."

Sarissa rose her hands in surrender. "I humbly submit my services for your consideration of mercy."

With a laugh (resulting in a cough), Scott snuggled up further in his blanket, putting down his mug. "If you want to take some of my people with you, go right ahead – but you have to talk with them first."

"Have you got any recommendations?"

"Recon mission?" He asked, Sarissa nodding in confirmation. "Jaal and Vetra have had the most experience with that kind of thing, but ultimately, all of them could be useful."

"I will take that under advisement," The asari pathfinder said, standing up from her chair and giving a slight bow. "I'll take my humble leave. Thanks, Pathfinder. Lieutenant."

Cora and Scott said their goodbyes, watching Sarissa leave.


	17. A name

Life was rather mundane as an inactive pathfinder, though he was hardly going to complain to Tann about the lack of work. It was nice to stand at the bench, chopping up a block of chocolate (sacrilege) to melt (less so) next to his partner – whom was doing a might fine job of carving up those strawberries.

"What about Ellen?"

Scott huffed a quiet laugh. "Don't tell her if she ever gets out of stasis, but I honestly don't like that name."

"What? Why?"

"It's too old fashioned," He shrugged.

Cora rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because 'Sara' and 'Scott' aren't old fashioned."

"Hey, two Ss are better then one."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

He continued the suggestions. "Liara?"

"I get the need to avoid old-fashioned human names, but I know at least three asari called 'Liara', all with different spelling, so . . ."

"Try for unique. Got it."

"These are all done," She said, referring to the strawberries as she went over to the sink to wash her hands and grab a wash cloth. "You melting or cleaning up?"

He gave a cheeky grin. "I'm kind of sad we're not just eating this outright, so I think I'll clean up."

Cora threw the wash cloth at him, casually brushing past him to grab the bowl of cut up pieces to put into the re-heater.

"You know, Jaal suggested 'Sorane' for a girl."

She rolled her eyes, glancing at him over her shoulder. It had been a quiet statement of 'absolutely not'. "The only people who _haven't_ suggested names I can count on one hand."

"Really?"

"Liam, Lexi and Gil have firmly kept their noses out of the naming process," She said proudly.

"Wow. Consider me surprised."

"I think we should consider 'Nate'."

He'd finished wiping up the bench, putting the cloth away before coming up to hug her from behind, watching her dip strawberries into chocolate and placing them back down onto the plate. He rested his chin on her shoulder. "'Nate Harper'. I like it."

"You don't want to use your last name, or at least hyphenate?"

"No," He stated plainly. "One of the reasons we left the Milky Way was because we were shunned by just about everyone because of dad's work on AI. Then becoming Pathfinder . . . being Alec Ryder's son overlooked whatever qualifications I'd actually had. People seemed to forget that I helped protect a mass relay and focused solely on how I should relive my dad's failures."

"You're afraid that our kid will face the same thing?"

"I don't want people thinking our child should be the next Pathfinder because they have the Ryder name."

"Scott . . ."

"Just . . ." He sighed. "Humor me. For now, at least. Besides, you're the only member of the Harper clan here in Andromeda. Meanwhile I still have a sister, who's getting pretty cozy with one Vetra Nyx if I do say so myself, and a mother in cryo."

Cora rested her head against his for a few moments. "Alright," She mumbled against his cheek, pulling away to finish up what she'd started.

With the sincere moment over, he picked up where they'd left off. "Hey, what about 'Aya' for a girl?"

Her nose scrunched a bit. "I'm not overly fond of naming our kids after planets . . ."

"I could have suggested 'Terra'."

She groaned. "Add 'Aya' to the list."

Scott chuckled. "If not 'Aya', how about 'Eden'?"

"You really love your planets with tragedies, don't you? Alright," She sighed. "Add that one to the list, too. And I raise you 'Limissa'."

"Asari?"

"Could have picked 'Entha'." She pointed out.

"Add 'Limissa' to the list, then." He leaned against the bench. "Why is picking names for girls harder then picking names for boys?"

"Because you're not conceding. 'Naeama'?"

"'Naomi'."

Cora paused, stealing a chocolate dipped strawberry that hadn't yet set and popping it into her mouth. She nodded to herself. "I like Naomi'."


	18. With good comes bad

"Now that they're gone," Sara slipped into the adjacent chair. "I think we need to talk."

Scott gave her a strange look, taking another sip of his beer before setting it back down onto the coffee table. They'd just finished up a quiet dinner, catching up with Tempest operations – Tann had ordered it back out to supply support cargo to and from the Nexus when the Verania got taken out of action. Ferrying supplies was not its intended use, but it kept his wayward crew busy (or, rather, those of them still on the Tempest).

Sara was the temporary CO with Scott and Cora on leave. Gil was on Eos to spend more quality time with Dian; Vetra and Jaal were on some "uncharted planet" with Sarissa Theris getting an up close and personal look at kett operations; Suvi was on the Nexus working with scientists here on perhaps terraforming Ryder-1, though without the vaults, this may prove to be a long and strenuous task.

Which left Kallo, Lexi, PeeBee, Drack, Liam and, of course, Sara.

He thought his sister had a thing with Vetra going, but apparently not, as evident by her snuggling up to Liam during dinner. It was honestly the most awkward experience he'd ever sat through, but Cora thought it was cute.

It wasn't cute, he'd explained to her quietly whilst they were cleaning up, Sara and Liam still on the couch deep in their own conversation at the time. The potential fallout he was concerned he'd have to deal with when he got back on duty was freaking him out. When he'd voiced that concern to his second, she'd whacked his bicep and told him to stop treating the crew like children.

He was getting side-tracked.

"About what?" He finally asked after those few moments of contemplation.

"You and Cora."

"What about me and Cora?"

"You're having _kids_ -"

" _Kid_." He corrected. "One. One kid, at present time." Or, at least, he hoped. Honestly, he wondered how his parents dealt with having twins - given he and Sara used to be miniature nightmares, as much as he liked the idea of a family, he'd prefer to start one child at a time. For all he knew, however, fate might have a different plan.

She rolled her eyes. "I just . . . want to make sure that you're both committed to this."

Scott frowned."Have I given you reason to be concerned?"

"No," She admitted. "But . . . I don't know. I feel like Dad missed out on a lot when we were kids because he was busy with his work in the Alliance, and he never really reconnected with us."

She was reminding him of that vivid dream he'd head of Alec, of the first human Pathfinder saying that he was proud of his son, actually hugging him and rrying to put his mind at ease when Scott was freaking out about _everything_.

But that was the thing. He recognized that Alec had his faults, especially as a father, but never did Alec _not care_ , never was he not committed. Sure, there were times where his work came first, and he was honestly the worst at displaying any kind of human emotion – so much so that Scott compared him to turians – but his father was there, in the background. If they needed him, he was there. Sort of. Depended on what exactly he was working on, really, but the overall _point_ was that he would _eventually_ be there.

"You're worried I'll get carried away with being a Pathfinder."

He was already been concerned about this, about turning into his father, about how his father's work impacted much of his career in the Milky Way. As soon as it came out that Alec was working on an AI project, Scott had essentially been shunned from duty. His locker was searched, his communications investigated, and he himself was essentially interrogated. When they cleared Scott of wrong-doing, he'd thrown up his arms and walked away.

He'd wanted to blame his father, blame the fact that had he not worked on SAM, Scott would be snug in bed at the Arcturus relay, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. Alec didn't tell Scott's CO to search every inch of Scott's belongings, hadn't _made_ them investigate his son. That was all on the Alliance. It honestly hurt more that nobody, not his CO nor his friends, tried stopping him from walking out the door.

"I don't want you to lose sight of what you have, Scott." Sara clarified, bringing him out of his thoughts. "You have a gorgeous woman on your arm and a baby on the way. When you go back out there, I don't want you being Pathfinder to get in the way of this family you have."

Scott's eyes flickered up to meet those shared blue orbs of his twin. "I get the picture. And this is something I've already discussed with Cora. There's a reason _both_ of us are on leave."

"I figured."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he considered his words. "I don't want this sort of life for my child. I mean, all the positive things – seeing, meeting new cultures, trying new things, exploring what is essentially an uncharted galaxy? Absolutely. But the combat side? There was only one reason I was in the Alliance, and it was to prove to dad that I could live up to his legacy. That's not to say I didn't enjoy it – I loved almost every second of it. Dreaming what was on the other side of that relay, conversing with all sorts of species and cultures before they left . . . but that was all the good part, and you and I both know that with good things comes the bad. My child will never vie for my attention, and I plan on striving to the point where I don't have to put up with the crap I gave dad – on a regular basis, at least. And Cora will not be stuck in the middle like mom was."

His sister seemed taken aback, surprised about the amount of thought he'd already put into this. "You're going to be a great father."

"Of course," Scott gave a grin. "I've got a super biotic and a twin sister that'll kick my ass otherwise."


	19. The back-up plan

One of the things Scott had regret in his life was not taking advantage of his biotic heritage sooner. He and his sister exposed to eezo whilst in the womb? Check. Father an N7 and crazy good at manipulating biotics to do his bidding? Check. Mother having completed extensive research into biotics? Check.

Desire to go through legitimate training? Yeah, no.

Sara took early lessons from Alec and Ellen, as one would have expected from both the Ryder twins, and while Scott knew how to control what little outbursts of biotic energy he personally could muster (which, admittedly, wasn't a lot compared to the likes of his sister and father), he refrained from using it in his every day life or for combat advantage. Which was kind of dumb, all things considering, given that he spent much of his time in the Milky Way galaxy guarding a freaking mass relay. He'd coped a lot of slack from his team mates during that time about how his being a biotic might have been helpful during sticky situations, but ultimately he'd never needed them. He was a recon specialist – he stayed in the background, was a fantastic shot with a sniper rifle, assessing a danger before running headlong into it (most of the time, at least). Sure, he'd needed some training with an assault rifle, copped slack from Liam for sticking to the "simple" M8 Avenger and never once touched a shotgun during his entire time in the new galaxy, and he'd never claim to being a crack shot with a pistol, but he knew how to handle one accurately at the least.

But the scare in the water tank had changed Scott's perspective. He'd relied heavily on his biotic crew members to get them out of problems, giving no thought to just how useful he himself might be. Given that, out of them all, Cora was the most skilled in using biotics in offense and self-defense, he figured that now was a good time to use his spouse's wealth of knowledge on this particular subject, and she'd begun to coach him in fine-tuning his control and training up some strength in certain areas.

"You got it?" She asked tentatively, having taken a position on the deck above, watching over him as he maintained the crate full of ammunition a metre or so above his head. One of her 'fine-tuning' exercises, as unpleasant as it was. They'd taken up the space in the Tempest's hold, now on their way to Eos for a vacation away from their vacation (which had mainly been an administrative nightmare given that Tann had been keen on keeping them both around for 'expert advice', of which much of the council of nay-sayers tended to ignore).

A sharp breath pierced from his nose, his arms and knees shaking. This would be his third minute under the pump. "Yep. Doing great."

Scott was not doing great.

And he'd never admit it, but it was a heavy blow to his ego. Though he knew he shouldn't be comparing himself to the likes of Cora, Peebee, or even Lexi, but knowing his partner could lift this with one arm and hold it for a good fifteen minutes without complaint was not exactly doing wonders for his self-esteem.

"Don't push yourself too hard. Let me know the second have to tap out."

His arms were starting to feel like boiling water, the implant in his neck was burning hot under his skin, his head ached, and his entire core was vibrating – and not in the fun, Cora-during-sex way, but in the 'I really don't think this is healthy for my organs' way.

"Sam, switch to the adept profile," Scott managed to huff out, relieved when some of the heat had been taken off his head, replaced instead by another spike of heat at the base of his skull. When Ellen had designed his implant, he'd made her aware of his intention to not actually use whatever biotics he was capable of. Cora had insisted on practicing with just the biotic amp, SAM instead merely monitoring how he was doing and relaying back to Cora's datapad. But the usually dormant amp was not built for this kind of punishment and was doing its best to make him aware of it - when the _other_ side of his skin started to burn, he knew it was time for SAM to take on some of the weight. The crate was starting to feel about twelve times heavier then it had been before, and that was _with_ SAM at his back.

"Cora?"

"Yeah?"

He shook his head. "I don't got it."

The second he'd said it, he'd almost dropped the crate onto himself, his one saving grace being the biotic commando acting as his trainer, talking him through easing it down gently whilst also having taken up some of the weight with her own biotics. At the back of his head, he couldn't help but be baffled that she was lifting something from _below_ her, and it was at least three times her weight.

She was a powerhouse. And she didn't need to demonstrate any more then what she just had to prove it to , she didn't even need to prove it to him.

The crate was placed safely on the ground next to him when he collapsed to the deck, regaining his breath and letting the cold deck plating cool his forehead. He was vaguely aware of Cora making her way down to him.

He was exhausted, simply letting his body rest for a few moments before Cora helped him back up to a seated position, handing him a bottle of water. He didn't realize just how sweaty he was, either.

"Four minutes," She noted quietly, taking a swig of her own bottle. "For a beginner, its above average. Next time, we'll try pulling."

"I can pull people," He argued half-haphazardly.

"People tend to not be tied to structures. Pulling or knocking out balcony supports is a surprisingly helpful skill."

A skill he probably could have used back in the tank of doom. He gave her a quizzical look. "I've never seen you take out a balcony."

"I knock out instead of pull, but you'd be surprised how many times I had to do it back in asari space. Here you can just shoot the joints, but as soon as they start building permanent fixtures? You're gonna need some serious charge or pulling strength."

Scott nodded weakly, tucking his head down for a steady breath. "Excuse me if I throw up on you."

She gave a chuckle, hand rubbing his back. "After this, food."

His stomach was more adverse to the idea then the rest of him, but coach knows best. Maybe she was legitimately anticipating him throwing up.

"Jeez, Ryder. She's worn you out already?"

The Pathfinder glanced up to find Peebee – not in her usual getup, but as though she'd just crawled out of bed. One of the luxuries of asari biology affording her was the lack of bed hair. Or static hair, as Scott was beginning to notice the more often he cracked out his biotics (Cora keeping her hair short suddenly made more sense).

Cora answered for him. "Didn't need comment from the peanut gallery, Peebee."

"What?"

"Nevermind," Cora sighed. "What are you doing here? Routine is breakfast in the galley."

"I figured I'd come witness Ryder's training. That, and, well, the guys are arguing over who gets to be godparents to baby Harper."

Scott sighed, glancing up to see Cora rubbing her eyes. "I don't even think _we've_ discussed that."

"Can't we just say that Sara gets custody if something happens to us?" She said.

He paused for a second, ignoring Peebee's quiet grumble about Cora and favouritism. "Really? Sara? _Why?"_

"Why not? She's your sister."

"Well . . . yeah, but . . . she's part of the ground team. Chances are, if something happens to us, it's probably happened to her."

"You have someone else in mind?" She asked.

There was a small moment of pause, Peebee on the balcony waiting gleefully for what would likely cause drama among her fellows. But Scott spoke his words slowly. " . . . Harry and Lexi?"


	20. Drink

"Deep breath in."

Turns out being an everyday colonist was hard. Not because of the scorching temperature at best on Eos, the certain lack of water resources (they'd been required to implement water restrictions until they could produce the stuff themselves instead of having to pray that it rains and stealing from whatever puddle they could find within reason, so "haha _no shower longer then three minutes_ "), the endless dirt. Did he mention the heat?

When they'd first landed, he vaguely remembered someone (it might have even been him, or Liam) saying "new galaxy, new ways to die". Somebody conveniently forgot to mention that random strains of viruses could be included in the "death by new galaxy" category.

Scott Ryder . . . was sick. _And it sucks_ , he thought vaguely as he turned away from Lexi to cough into his elbow. It was wet, phlegm at the back of his throat thoroughly disgusting, and it had persisted for a little over a week now. At first, he'd been convinced it was an upper respiratory tract infection - sure, he was no real doctor, could hardly claim excellence in the field of _field medicine_ , but humidity plus 300+ year old popsicle equaled not-quite-immune-to-everything. At least, that was until the asari checked up on him.

"It's a virus," Lexi had stated every so calmly. "I'll have Doctor Ramirez drop by with something for the undesirables, but ultimately, you'll just have to ride this one out. Should have gotten your flu shot."

 _Four days later . . ._

"It's _a virus,_ Ryder."

"And it's doing a pretty convincing job of trying to kill me any time I take a breath in," Scott pointed out rather harshly. His voice was shot, his nose was stuffy, lips chapped, head killing him, you could hear him wheeze if he took a deep enough breath, he'd kept waking up at three hour intervals in the night to cough _chunks_ much to Cora's dismay – yes, he'd been sick before, but those times his body was like clockwork. Four days was all it had usually taken, back in the Milky Way galaxy. Four days sick, fifth day back on the clock and working without too much of a hitch.

Lexi was doing her best to keep her cool. "I can't very well cut out a virus."

"Honestly, I'd rather you cut out and replace my sinuses. That'd probably do the job."

"What do you _expect_ me to do?" She asked seriously.

"Give me something to take to make all this go away."

"Ramirez has already done that-"

"Ramirez isn't _my_ doctor, Lexi, _you_ are. Please, I'm begging you, as the godmother of my unborn child, I will order you to give me antibiotics if I have to - I swear to the Maker, I will do it."

The look the asari gave him in return was cold. "I hate to remind you, Pathfinder, but you're on leave, and not my commanding officer."

Probably a good thing she hadn't taken it as a serious threat. "Lexi-"

She was already moving to her desk across the room, putting together what ended up being a needle that went directly into his arm – and she wasn't hiding the lack of bedside manner, Scott having well irritated her. "Tempest isn't leaving for another two days," Lexi finally said, forcefully pressing a cotton bud onto the new hole in his arm regardless of his protests. "If you haven't improved, I'll request that we take you back to the Nexus so Harry can deal with you. Go to Ramirez, and get some damn paracetamol."

* * *

"How's Scott?"

The question didn't catch Cora off-guard, having expected this to come up on their leisurely walk after his visit to the Tempest earlier yesterday.

Lexi had fully intended on checking up on him and making good on her word to drag him back to the Nexus if he hadn't improved, but she'd had her suspicions.

"He's busy reading up on reports he missed out on over the last couple of days, but in higher spirits. He can't stop ringing out praises for you either," Cora grinned. "What'd you give him? It's not a miracle cure, but he slept better last night."

"Saline. Tell him he needs to drink more water."


	21. Dizzy

Prodromos was thriving to the point where they were taking in new colonists – from a population of 40, Bradley decided to expand that number up to 75, and then again to 100 just a few months later as the vault did it's job and their struggle with the climate and resources continued to loosen up.

He wouldn't admit it to the crew, but he felt more accomplished putting up these new buildings for the incoming colonists then he did resetting the vault. And though they were a fair few digits away from it becoming a problem, they were considering reopening one of the older colonies, the basin set to become increasingly cramped – and given the option, the majority of those currently residing in Prodromos preferred the open spaces after being cooped up on the Nexus.

His small construction team had just put in the final bolt of this one particular building, part of a block of residential housing. Scott took a step back, looking over the bulkhead. "Alright, I think we're done for today."

There was somewhat of a sigh of relief from some of the team, but others were double checking electrical and water connections, stem bolts, and all in between. He helped pack up, gathering up his belongings and just about to head back to his own residential housing block when Bradley clapped him on the shoulder.

"Pathfinder," He chuckled, leaning against the bulkhead. "You're doing a hell of a lot of work, you know that?"

"Another day at the Prodromos office," Scott grinned, shrugging on his jacket. And then he paused for a second, cocking his head. "Didn't I talk to you half an hour ago? What are you doing back here?"

Bradley hesitated for a bit. "Before I tell you, I want you to stay calm."

Scott frowned, a spike of panic echoing through his chest as he sized up Bradley. Whenever someone told him to 'stay calm', something bad had happened – and today so far, there had been zero incidents that he was aware of. "August, what the hell-"

"Cora sent me here to tell you that she's in the Med bay-"

He didn't hear the rest of what Bradley said, racing off towards the door, blood rushing through his ears. Cora, eight months pregnant, was now in the Prodromos medical centre, and August Bradley was telling him he needed to stay _calm_?

And where the hell was SAM during all this? Whenever anything happened, the AI alerted him in that exact minute – now his silence for most of the day made sense.

He didn't manage to get down the steps before Bradley pulled him to a halt. "Scott, freaking out and barging in there isn't going to do anyone any good."

"The mother of my unborn child is in a med centre," The Pathfinder spelled out. "Exactly how am I supposed to react?"

"She'll be back at your place in less then half an hour – so you're going to react by taking a deep breath and thinking about this logically."

"What happened?" Scott demanded.

"She fainted," Bradley said. "But she's fine now-"

Scott forced his hand off his arm to finish his storm down the steps, running a hand through his hair before turning back to Bradley. "Why the hell didn't anyone come get me?"

* * *

Bradley was right – after Scott was ordered to high-tail it back home to get some rest, Cora walked through the door soon after, greeted only by her partner's eyes from his seat at the table.

She sighed. "It was low blood sugar."

That made sense. As what he liked to call a 'super biotic', she generally had to up her intake of essentially everything. Add her pregnancy on top of that, and balancing everything had been a mild struggle, but managable.

His head dropped to rest on his arms, giving a small breath of relief. Cora's fingers trailed against his shoulders, rubbing his upper arms.

"You've been putting yourself under the gun lately," She murmured, kissing the top of his head. "If it was serious, you know I would have called."

'Under the gun' was not in reference to the Prodromos additions, but the stress he was putting himself under to be the attentive father, partner, that he felt he needed to be. Alec Ryder was . . . not the greatest example of fatherhood he'd had, and with Gil and Drack (whom had surprisingly built a support network for him) off on the Tempest, he felt like he was battling this alone. Weighing the inevitable responsibilities he had as the human pathfinder with the ones of being a father . . . suddenly taking all this time off didn't feel like such a good idea. It felt like they'd been setting themselves up to fail. Adding Cora's health to his list of ongoing stress, and he was starting to buckle under the weight.

And Cora had noticed. And Cora had similar concerns of her own – she was still his SIC, regardless of their relationship. Neither of them ever had what some might have called 'traditional' views of parenting – hell, Cora was chomping at the bit to get back to her regular duties, while Scott was more or less dreading returning to the Tempest – but having both parents out on the same mission seemed illogical in the face of potential danger. If one went down in that situation, likely both of them would. It would have been preferable if one was reassigned.

"I know," Scott said. Not that it made him feel better. He sat up properly, now leaning into the back of his chair. "And you're right. But next time, if there is a next time, I would prefer I be there, instead of being left in the dark. And please don't tamper with the AI again?"

She had restricted SAM's subroutines the second she'd started feeling dizzy – that is, according to the AI. He'd had to fix whatever she did to shackle him, proving once again that she was by no means a pretty face.

"Understood," She ran her fingers through his hair. "C'mon. Come to bed."

He hummed, staying a moment in his chair as Cora retreated to the bed. The block they'd been assigned was essentially a studio space until such time the other buildings were up and running. It had been home for the last six months, doing the job they required. Neither of them really had any problems with cramped spaces, Alliance training having drilled that into them, and despite the Tempest being somewhat of a luxury, neither had really gotten used to it.

Having already dressed for bed, he stripped off his shirt, tucking himself up behind her and pulling her close, one hand on her belly.

They had less then a month.

Honestly that was probably the reason why he'd panicked so quickly. And he'd honestly prefer Harry to be around – as much as Ramirez was a great doctor, Harry and Lexi were family now.

God, he really needed to talk to Gil, get some of these feelings off his chest and ask for support.


	22. Emergency

He was mid-target practice with his pistol when Cora patched him into quite the frantic call from one Liam Kosta.

Sarissa, Jaal and Vetra hadn't reported in. Actually, scratch that. They _had_ reported in, but the communication was garbled, had what sounded like screaming in the background, and no word as to where exactly they were. Sara with her skeleton crew had taken the Tempest in, and hadn't come out in two days – so now Sara, Kallo, Gil, Lexi, Drack and Peebee were gone too.

The salarian pathfinder was indisposed, APEX were out of people. Avitus was on his way, but despite the ample amount of time he'd had from Meridian's colonization to now, he was not up to speed with the areas and dangers of the Heleus Cluster. Not to mention, the turian was an ex-Spectre – "team work" had only recently become a word in his vocabulary, having been force-fed a team and a ship by Tann.

In the first five minutes of talking to Liam, Scott could feel himself reconsidering every action Sarissa and Sara had taken up to this point, halting only when he kicked himself into action. He needed his kit and weapons from the Prodromos armory.

Cora walked in as he was clipping on his chest plate. "What's the situation?"

"Tempest is missing," Scott said. "Sara went after Sarissa's recon team, and there's been no contact since."

"Liam got a location?"

"Yup – Avitus is coming to grab me, then the Menae is headed in a straight line to Liam and following the Tempest's last heading." He glanced around, looking for the last of his equipment. "Where's my-?"

Cora pointed at the sniper scope behind his head, labeled with his name. He spun round to grab it, snapping it onto his rifle. "How long do you think you'll be gone for?" She asked, handing him an extra clip.

"I'm hoping less then three days. Any longer then that, send search parties." Scott sighed, pausing for a few moments. "I really don't want to have to leave."

"It's the family."

"Yeah, it's the family royally screwing it up right at the time I had zero intention on leaving this colony," He pointed out, blue eyes settling on her, palms now resting on her belly between them. "I don't want to leave. Not now. This is just . . ."

Due date in less then a week, and Scott was being called away.

Cora took a deep breath, taking his gloved hands in hers. "I wish I could go with you."

"The timing is . . ." He huffed. "Terrible. And I'm gonna kick my sister's ass for that. But I promise you, I will come back."

"Of course you will," She nodded, inexplicably wincing. "Bring our family home. We'll be here."

* * *

It took them an entire day of searching, Liam having spent most of his time waiting for Ryder and Avitus Rix pinpointing where the Tempest had last used SAM's ping. The good news was, Kallo and Gil had been smart (as always), having dropped com beacons. Aside from the regular space drift, they had led them right to one badly beaten Tempest.

It broke his heart to see her barely holding together. One of her forward thrusters had almost been torn off completely, scorch marks littered the hull, and part of her nose had cracked, allowing them view of what could have been a deadly plasma fire. SAM gave a full report once they were closer, reconnecting with the full systems properly – the bridge was uninhabitable, locked down from the rest of the ship.

The good news? Three lifesigns. Though currently they were unidentifiable, if he had to guess, he'd assume the support staff – Gil, Lexi and Kallo. It would make sense that the engineer and pilot would try to keep the Tempest together. The ship might look like hell, but SAM reported that she was operating well under the strenuous conditions.

Scott sent Liam directly to the Tempest, to try and help get her ready to fly out the nebula. The two pathfinders would locate the team down on that dead fuel station.

He regretted the choice almost immediately.

The thing about abandoned stations was that they always provided an inhuman kind of atmosphere, as if something was waiting in the shadows ready to strike. Avitus's ship docked with orders to defend the Tempest when necessary.

At that point, they just followed the sound of screaming.

This was not how Scott imagined he'd get back into the field. He was certain that those noises were coming from Vetra Nyx – and where Vetra was, Sara wouldn't be far away.

It was a theory proven wrong.

"Vetra?" Scott called out into the blackness, shining the torch clipped onto his pistol around at the openings in the corridor, the turian pathfinder not far behind him. When the screaming ceased, he called out again. "Vetra, Jaal – is anyone here?"

There were no responses, just sparking coming from a panel they passed only a few moments ago. Avitus shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling . . ."

"So do I. Stay sharp, check your targets. There's more than a handful of my people down here."

Almost his entire crew were down here. This really, _really_ wasn't how he envisioned himself getting back into the field.

They rounded a corner once more, this time into an open area with some far better lighting, a balcony up top. It'd be harder to keep an eye on their own backs here, but so far, the abandoned station proved to be more of a horror story that had swallowed the crew then it had been filled with kett or kijor.

"Stop where you are."

The order came from up on the second balcony, from behind a sniper rifle. Scott squinted a bit, spotting a flair of familiar pink. "Jaal? Is that you?"

"Ryder?"

"It's me."

"Prove to me that it is so."

Fair call, Scott thought vaguely, catching Avitus's strange look towards him and electing to ignore it. If they were indeed up against kijor, two pathfinders conveniently finding their way onto an abandoned station seemed too good to be true – a deliberate trick of the mind. Or, even worse, the possibility that the kijor had _made_ the pathfinders show up.

Scott lowered his pistol, picking his own memory carefully. "You remember the poem you tried reading to Vetra?"

There was silence for a few moments. "Do _you_?"

"I wasn't there. But Peebee thought it was kind of sweet."

The sniper rifle lowered, Jaal's head popping up. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise," Scott breathed. "Is Vetra up there with you?"

"We heard screaming," Avitus added.

"She requires urgent medical attention, but the Tempest is no longer responding to hails."

Scott made his way up the stairs to the balcony, clapping Jaal on the shoulder as he spotted Vetra, almost stopping in his tracks. The turian had passed out, it seems, but had both legs, both arms, and all six fingers. He couldn't say the same for her allocated amount of blood, however.

"Sam, I need an overlay," Scott said, pulling out medigel from his kit. Vetra's armor was hard casing – he couldn't tell how much she was bleeding just by looking at her, but there were three direct shots to her chest that were mildly concerning. The scanner was brought to life for the first time in what felt like forever, showing three clean shots with no remaining bullets.

The screaming seemed to have been from Jaal cauterizing her wounds. It lifted a weight off his chest only slightly knowing this had been inflicted by Jaal, and not some crazy torturer in a backroom somewhere like he'd initially feared.

"Avitus, call your crew – get a team down here to pick up Vetra. I can't do anything for her here," Scott said, standing back up with one last look at Vetra as the turian acknowledged and made the call to the Menae. "Jaal, you know where the others are?"

"Sara and Drack went after Sarissa."

"And Peebee?"

"If she was with Sara, I failed to see her," The angara admitted.

"Sam, could Peebee be on the Tempest?" Scott asked.

" _I was unable to establish a clear connection with the ship. It is possible that an additional lifesign was masked by plasma radiation."_ The AI responded.

"Let's hope that's the case."

Avitus turned back to the two. "My crew is on the way."

Scott nodded. "Good. Stay here and keep the corridors clear."

"You're going after the others by yourself?" The turian asked. "We have no idea what we're dealing with – you're walking into this blind."

Scott glanced at Jaal, his question silent, but the angara knew exactly what he meant. "I've seen three kijor soldiers, followed with additional kett. It is by no means an army, but they are lethal."

Avitus sighed, resigning himself to Ryder's decision. "Do you at least have a plan?"

"Keep my tactical cloak charged. As soon as I see trouble, I'm going around it until I find Sara and Drack."

"What about Sarissa?" The turian pressed. "She's around here, too."

"I'm hoping I find her first."

* * *

Oh, he found Sarissa first, alright. Pointing a shotgun at his sister's head.

There were some things he'd never forget in the line of duty. Tagomen nailing a geth in just the right spot so that the entirity of the AI's shell exploded into tiny little pieces, being barreled over by an excitable asari, charging forward to the kett leader on Meridian and slaughtering all his forces – but the asari pathfinder, of whom he vouched for regardless of public opinion, mere seconds away from pulling the trigger that would end his sister's life?

In the top three least likeable parts of his job.

Scott's biotics rippled, the Pathfinder ripping the gun right from Sarissa's hands. She was under kijor influence – nose bloody, eyes wide and feral, stance abnormal. If he scanned her, likely SAM would provide a similar analysis. He'd seen it before in the salarian pathfinder. That hadn't been a particularly good day either.

By the time Sarissa spun around to see what the hell had happened to her weapon, Sara took the chance to elbow her in the nose, pulling at her assault rifle and smashing it across her face. The asari crumpled down to the ground, almost anticlimactically in a way.

"The hell are you doing here?" Sara demanded as Scott advanced towards her and the unconscious body of the asari pathfinder.

"Rescuing _you_."

He was expecting her to say something along the lines of her having everything 'in hand', but thankfully, the obvious flaws in that statement alone had kept her quiet, staring down at Sarissa and glancing around the room. "Did you find Jaal and Vetra?"

"Avitus is with them," Scott said.

"Vetra?"

"Not great," He huffed. "Peebee with you?"

"She's on the Tempest holding everything together with Gil." She said. "How'd you get here?"

"The Menae. Look, I'd rather we'd play twenty questions after we find Drack. Please tell me he's here with you?"

Sara shook her head, Scott giving a quiet groan of annoyance. "But he's not far. He got hit pretty bad too."

"Stay here with Sarissa and keep her out. Avitus is coming this way once they get Vetra back to the Menae – do not move from this spot," He pointed at the ground. "You move, or she runs off, this whole thing is shot. The sooner we're off this hellhole, the better."

* * *

Once they'd limped everybody back to the Menae, Scott's next set of demands included somehow getting he and Sara onto the Tempest to check on the rest of the crew. It hadn't been easy – forced to space walk into a depressurized cargo bay was also not what he envisioned doing during his first day back, but everything but the Nomad (thanks gravity locks) had already been flushed out into space when Sara and Drack made their way onto the fuel station to begin with. The battle that had almost torn the ship apart had been on their way _into_ the nebula – which more or less explained the lack of spacial protection the Menae had come across.

But if he thought the outside of the Tempest looked back, the inside was ten times worse. Peebee was literally holding the meeting up, structural integrity at it's worst at this specific point.

The good news was, as soon as Gil reinforced this area, the ship would be ready to fly. But they had no controls.

"Can we control flight from the engine room?" Sara suggested.

Kallo shook his head. "Once we lost the bridge, we lost the ability to re-route control of our engines."

" _Pathfinder, I believe the Menae may be able to tow the Tempest back to space dock."_

"How so?" Scott asked.

" _Each pathfinding vessel has remote access to each ship's control ling systems."_

"Work with the turian Sam. As soon as Gil's done, get us out of here. We're sitting ducks like this."

Sara sighed, taking off the chest piece to her armor. "The good news is, the Menae is more combat ready then the Tempest was."

"Just because she has a turian gun strapped to her hull, doesn't mean she's invincible," Scott pointed out. "The kett tore you guys apart, but you took them out too. That's the only reason we got here without a fight."

The two SAMs working together had managed to steer the Tempest far enough away from any impending danger, now on their way back to Nexus space. SAM reported all systems green, but all aboard her were still expecting the hull to fracture somewhere, keenly aware of the now non-existent bridge that had succumbed to plasma fires. But despite Gil's glue and tape patch job, there was no way Scott or Avitus would allow the ship to travel at full speed, so those aboard the ship made of crumbs weren't out of the water.

Up to this point, Gil had been working around the clock keeping the ship together. Now the man was just happy to be breathing air, finally listening to Kallo and Lexi when they ordered him to sit down and rest. When he sat down in the corner of the meeting room for a meal, he'd fallen asleep – and Kallo took it upon himself to look after the ship until such time Gil was back on his feet. Most of the work now was assisting SAM with course corrections lest they fly into asteroids and tear the ship apart once more.

He didn't want to feel angry towards Sara for getting the ship into this mess to begin with, without alerting anyone else, but the more he thought about it, he realized that he knew the consequences of such an order. At the time, she hadn't. According to Lexi, they'd had no idea what they were flying into, were of the understanding that Sarissa was simply looking into an old fuel station that could be re-purposed for the Initiative – by that logic, the distress call from Jaal and Vetra could have easily been misinterpreted as one of them having been severely injured in a freak accident, not an attack. "Under the presented circumstances, she made a reasonable decision," The doctor told him.

"Yeah," Scott breathed.

* * *

Harry called him back to the Nexus medbay as soon as Vetra woke up – for which he was thankful for, because in another hour, the Menae would drop him back at Prodromos, into the waiting arms of his incredibly worried, heavily pregnant partner.

"You know," Scott grinned, stepping to her bedside. "When I told Sarissa to take you and Jaal, it was because I thought you were both the best at what you do. This? This is just embarrassing."

The turian sighed, turning her head to face him. She looked groggy, almost like she didn't have any energy to move her head any further then this. "Hi, Ryder."

"How you feeling?"

"Better then before," Her mandibles moved in a mild annoyance, apparently directed at herself rather then Scott's teasing. "I'm up on _all_ the drugs."

"I've no doubt," He laughed, rubbing her shoulder. "I wanted to check on you before I headed out, make sure you were doing okay."

"You're leaving?"

"Knowing my luck, Cora's had a baby without me." She hadn't. Yet. But she'd admitted to some more serious contractions over the last hour or two - the quicker he got back to Prodromos, the better he'd feel. "Do me a favour and take it easy for the next week or so, okay?"

Vetra sighed again. "No promises. I'm not _really_ a fan of hanging around all this white."

'All this white'? For some reason, the statement had him cracking a smile and a small laugh. "Alright, then. But once you settle back into your quarters, you're staying off your feet."

"Aye aye, captain." She mock saluted, eyes still portraying a kind of grogginess. In all likelihood, she wouldn't remember his visit, but it was worth his making sure she was okay.


	23. Emergence

If the human pathfinder was taking private calls in the turian pathfinding crew's galley quite frequently, not a single one of them complained. Scott was left undisturbed during his contact with Cora, who hung up and called frequently, not in attempts to alarm him (she'd never), but to abide by his request to keep him updated.

The first law had been laid – she wasn't giving birth whilst on vidcall. Which he figured was very fair.

The news in general was nothing spectacular. Her contractions were more regular, and Ramirez had asked her to stay in the medbay to monitor the goings on – given that she'd had trouble maintaining her energy as a biotic pretty much all the way through the pregnancy, he wasn't taking any chances.

It was entirely possible that they would not make it in time. Lexi had come along anyway, citing her wish to check up on Cora for herself – she'd been her patient for her entire time aboard the Tempest, after all – but she's set her sights squarely on Scott Ryder for this trip, having stayed by his side since they'd left the Nexus, hovering as if he was going to faint at any second.

He wasn't. And, surprisingly, he wasn't about to have the panic attack he'd expected himself to have. Cora's cool, calm and collected response to the whole thing had reassured him, and if the mother of his child wasn't worried, then he really didn't need to be either. Was he anxious? Yes. But he was, among other reasons, more anxious about getting there quickly to _meet_ his child rather then Cora's well-being. As Lexi was repeatedly pointing out, she was in good hands.

"How are you feeling?" The asari doctor asked when she walked back into the Menae's galley, Scott leaning back with his eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping, but trying to calm himself down.

His eyes opened to the ceiling, giving a light huff. "Sick to my stomach."

Now that the Tempest had been rescued, their crew recovered, and all doing well on the Nexus or otherwise, he'd begun to realize just how long it had been since he'd been this far away from Cora.

Actually, he'd _never_ been this far away from Cora. Having her on vidcall was great, but she'd called it quits after talking with him for two hours straight, citing tiredness and need for sleep. Something that he himself should be doing. He kept telling himself that he wasn't worried about Cora – he wasn't. But he couldn't put a finger on why he felt ill.

"Have you eaten?"

"No," Scott admitted. "But I'm honestly not hungry."

Lexi took a seat on the other side of the table. "What's on your mind, then?"

He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up properly as Lexi offered him a glass of water. "Did Sara tell you she was concerned I'd turn out like our father?"

"Is she, now?"

"I think I put those concerns to rest. Hopefully." Scott shook his head. "I just . . . I can't help thinking about him. About if I'll fall down that rabbit hole, lose touch with her because of my job. Cora and I have talked about it endlessly."

The asari leaned forward. "What does Cora think?"

"That I'm taking over a year off to be with them both. Apparently that should be proof enough."

"You're not convinced?"

He sighed. "I don't know a whole lot about my parents' relationship around my birth. Dad was a brilliant soldier, but the thing I remember most about him was that he struggled with us being a family. The most quality time I ever had with him was training in hand to hand combat techniques, and that was for the Initiative."

There was a pause as Lexi considered his words. "You never told me how he reacted to yours leaving the Alliance."

Scott glanced up at her, taking a sip of water. "He was upset. Not at me, but at Captain Dolleny. I'd worked hard to get where I was in that squad."

"He felt guilty about what happened?"

"Yes. He apologized to me – hugged me, even." He scoffed. "I _really_ didn't want this day to be about daddy issues."

The asari ignored the off-hand comment, however. "Last time he hugged you was when your mother died. He was affected deeply then, too."

"We all were."

Silence again, as Lexi watched him.

"I don't think you give your relationship with your father enough credit," She finally said. "Alec was flawed – there's no denying that. He could have been a better father, a better partner, but ultimately, he just _was_. And there's nothing either of us can do to change that. But you have the building blocks in front of you for something truly great with your daughter. You can learn from Alec's mistakes, see the problems where he could not. Neither of your are perfect men. And Cora, and your daughter, are not asking you to be perfect."


	24. CZH

Scott could hardly sit still as they waited for the Menae to land on Eos, and he couldn't rein in his speed when he sprinted to the med centre of Prodromos. Two hours and no word from Cora, and he was losing his mind.

"Pathfinder," Ramirez greeted as he pulled Scott back from breezing into the room currently housing his partner and child.

"Is Cora alright?"

"She's doing great," The doctor said, Scott now vaguely aware of Lexi stepping into the room behind him. "They're both clear to leave tomorrow, but tonight, they're here under observation. There was a minor complication during delivery – they're both fine, but the baby's heart rate was higher then usual. I have SAM monitoring her heart rate, so far everything is going well."

His anxiety flared once more upon hearing the words 'complication during delivery'. That would explain Cora's sudden radio silence, new law be damned. Ramirez continued to explain how all exams had been passed and that this was just a precaution, Lexi rubbing the space between his shoulder blades and doing a surprisingly good job at keeping him grounded and rational.

When he stepped into their room, he found Cora reading a datapad with a baby on her chest. _Their_ baby, currently sleeping rather soundly, her mother looking worn out – hair matted, a bowl and cloth on the bedside table having likely been her quick pass for a shower, and her eyes heavy.

He loved her.

Scott stood at her bedside, pressing his lips to her hair as one of his arms snaked around to cradle both she and the baby. He just breathed for a few more moments, Cora un-moving, but smiling, as he'd find, when he pulled back to stare at the two.

"I'm glad everyone's safe," Cora mumbled, pulling his hand into hers.

"Yeah." He sighed. "At the cost of missing my daughter's birth."

"I think the reasoning is fair. Daddy had to go safe the galaxy again."

He scoffed, giving a quiet chuckle as he pulled up a chair, leaning his head on Cora's bed to get a close look at their child. "Ramirez said there were problems?"

Cora rolled her eyes. "Elevated heart rate. She's been in the green ever since, though, so I'm not worried."

"So back to our own bed tomorrow. That'll be fun for us."

"Hmm," The biotic smiled again, crunching her nose. "She's not a whole lot to look at yet."

He couldn't help but laughing, burying his head into Cora's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Cora breathed. "And we should finalize our daughter's name."

"Are you happy with it?"

"I am."

The pathfinder nodded. "Claire Harper."


End file.
